


Francis the Fraud

by El_Skel



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Con-Artistry, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Humor, Latino Protagonist, Morals are low, protagonist is an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24542203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/El_Skel/pseuds/El_Skel
Summary: Six months. Six entire months since I got abducted from my world into this awful frost land and I'm still struggling. They didn't even give me some gimmick powers! They just dropped me here! The fact that after those six months I'm now wanted dead in most holds for my little ventures doesn't help at all.Why the hell did I think that swindling was a good career choice?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	1. Francis the Fraud

Why is this happening again. Why does shit never go well.

Right now I'm hiding under a stone table. Looking to my right I see the corpse of the dude who had me kidnapped just minutes ago with a pretty mean cut in his head, besides him is the body of the draugr that killed him. Just another Thursda- uh, Turdas.

I don't know why this keeps repeating, but I think it's safe to blame the Thalmor, just as most shit in this country.

" _Dir Vilaan!_ " And there come our undead friends, who are ready to make me the living definition of a human piñata. Jolly, fucking jolly. I don't move from my hiding spot, it would be pretty stupid if they catch me now after finally getting my human friend killed. Turns out that people don't defend themselves well without moving capabilities, so the draugr did quick work of him.

I can hear their steps and their breathing, why corpses have lungs is beyond me. I keep myself hidden, my breathing even and quiet. I can see their legs.

...The group of five draugrs finally goes away. Fucking hell, about time.

Once I'm certain enough that they won't come back ready to cut my head off, I get out of the table. I stand up and stretch. I need to avoid hiding in such shitty places next time, it fucks my back really bad. What now? Oh right, looting.

I crouch and start looting the corpse of my kidnapper. What an asshole he was, wanted me to open one of those nordic doors without a dragon claw. This is the last time I try to pass myself up as a draugr expert for a scam. One would think that after six times I'd learn the lesson.

After getting five pieces of gold from his corpse (Doesn't even cover a night in an inn.) I decide to just get away from here. New rule, no stepping inside nordic burial grounds. They give me the creeps.

I make my way back to the entrance, numerous draugr corpses are laying around to the sides. Normally I'd go and loot them thoroughly, but seeing as I already have five angry ones back there I decide against it. Once I find the entrance I exit the crypt.

Cold air hits me. Fuck, why did they have to kidnap me while I didn't have a cloak, I mean, why would I? I was in fucking Markarth when I got abducted and now I'm in Winterhold. If this shit keeps up I'll freeze to death. Would be a shitty ending after all the bullshit I had to go through.

At least I have the kidnapper's horse waiting for him. Tee hee, time for him to serve a new master. While climbing up the horse I idly remember that Mr. Kidnapper had a cloak with him. Bah, whatever, no way I'm going back now. With my sweet soft ass now on top of the horse, I instruct him to start moving.

"Move up, buddy, we have a long trek now." In reality I don't have a plan, I'll probably just go make another half-assed scam and sleep on the streets. Again.

The horse starts going forward, I have no fucking idea in which direction is the nearest city, so I'll have to just wing it, again. For fuck's sake.

This trip promises to be long, and being bored without nothing to do gets me to think. And the shit I usually end up thinking is always the same. Well, that and stupid disco music.

How did shit get so irredeemably fucked? What the fuck even happened? There's no fucking reason for me to even be here in the first place!

I was finishing my last year of high school, and I was doing pretty good. I had a nice family and overall, I had a somewhat clear direction with my life.

And then I wake up one day in the middle of a forest, wearing nothing but my pajamas. Imagine my fucking reaction. Once I calmed myself down after an hour straight of freaking out I forced myself to get out of that forest. And oh joy oh fucking joy I was nowhere near my home.

Yeah, if you haven't figured it out already (In which case, please stop being drunk.) I found myself in Skyrim.

Mother. Fucking. Skyrim.

Todd Howard you did it again.

I always loved that fucking game, it was the only thing that my toaster PC could feasibly run and I spent so many fucking hours dicking around and creating characters. But I never loved it enough to want this shit! Please Todd I'll do anything just take me back!

I've been stranded here for the last six months, and, want to know my opinion? It's fucking shit. What the fuck were you expecting? The middle ages are hilarious to look back to because they are so ridiculously miserable, but now that I'm in them I only wonder if this is a fucked up karmic reaction or something.

This is where I reveal my intentions of 'going back home', only to back out at the end because of 'muh friendz' or to 'save da world' by being the Dovahkiin, with the whole world revolving around my penis. Honestly? I just want to fucking live. Boohoo, how boring. But can you blame me?

Adventure is the last word you could've related with me. Laziness and Doing Fuck All is something more in line with me. Sadly, this world doesn't exactly reward laziness and doing fuck all. The horror.

I still remember clearly my first attempt at getting some pieces of gold, I had arrived to a town after almost an entire day walking. It was Riverwood, oh the irony. There was no way I was going to even attempt going into a dungeon for cash, I would've been fucking obliterated from the get go, so I decided to instead try an alternative method of gaining profit.

Scam. I tried to scam people. Please take an educated guess at how that shit went.

Now, before you people go and call me out for saying that I'm going against my word of doing fuck all, please listen. I had three choices at the moment, it was either:

A) Go into a Dungeon for cash. Probably end up dead. Self-explanatory as to why I didn't choose it.

B) Straight up steal. Probably end up skewered by guards. See above.

C) Do honest hard work by being a farmer or working at a shop or something. This one is much better because I don't end up dying, however, that would mean that I'd get fucking rooted in one single place while being at the beck and order of some asshole. And some asshole telling me what to do isn't my definition of doing fuck all. Yes, very edgy, I know.

In hindsight not choosing option C was a pretty fucking stupid decision, I wholeheartedly regret it, but seeing as bad decisions have already been made and there's already some bounties for my head, it's a moot point.

This led to a fourth option, D.

D) Become a con artist. Yup, pretty stupid. How I made the jumps in logic to arrive there is fucking beyond me. If I could go and meet myself from the past I'd beat the shit out of him. He fucking deserves it anyways.

And so, poor little me tried to pull a hoax with some bottles and card tricks. Hope you made that educated guess earlier.

The day after, I woke up with a black eye, naked in an alleyway and completely and utterly lost. Three hours I spent laying down on my own shit and misery before attempting to get up and later begging for clothes. It was a pretty sad fucking show. Don't worry, there are worse stories, but those are for later, there's only enough misery I can recall in one sitting.

After that it was an Odyssey of going from town to town and trying to pull the wool over people's eyes. The fact that I was completely inexperienced in surviving in the wild or in dealing with people didn't fucking help. Still, as months passed I eventually learned all of those skills and more. I even managed to get my first kill one day! Although, again, that's a story for another time.

There were many things I thought about in those six months, mainly three fucking things.

1.- How the fuck did I get here?  
2.- Why the fuck am I here?  
3.- How fucking deep are we in the story?

I've already given up in answering questions one and two. It probably is just for a God to have shits and giggles at my expense, in which case, hardy fucking har. I'm blaming Sheogorath anyways. The third question is the one that actually matters right now.

After asking around I found out that the dragons still don't come fuck shit up. While I hoped that I was in a completely different timeline or that it would be many years before the main story , the fact that the Stormcloaks and Imperials are in Civil War crushed those hopes. Which means that it won't be long enough until the dragons come and, with them, the Dragonborn.

The moment, the fucking moment shit starts, I'll do as much as I can to avoid it, which, to be honest, shouldn't be hard. There's plenty of NPCs in Skyrim and even more here, because turns out that real towns aren't composed of six houses. So, best case scenario? I set myself down on a shop or something and just live as peacefully as one can in a world with motherfucking dragons flying around.

Yeah, that'd be good, just a little old shop in a corner selling, uh, bread or something, I dunno. I just want some fucking peace. That's why I fucking hate past me. Past me is dumb and stupid, and a moron and also a giant asshole, wait, I'm still all of those things.

Whatever, seeing as what just happened minutes ago you can guess that my plans for settling down have gone terribly. Last scam was supposed to be simple, get some bottles with some liquid (Don't fucking know what was in there.) and pretend I'm a Draugr Expert™ and convince everyone that drinking that vile shit will make you somehow live longer. Don't ask, I stopped questioning my own methods long ago.

Unsurprisingly, people didn't buy it, at that point I really wasn't that bothered by the disbelief. Six months of publicly lying does wonders for your confidence, it makes it go from zero to still zero, but this time you get so used to people thinking you're a fucking idiot that it doesn't matter. Woohoo.

The fact that no one believed me didn't stop a big boy treasure hunter with big dreams to tie me up and force me to 'go on an adventure' into a fucking draugr hall. This was the sixth time someone kidnaps me because they got way too into my lie. The fucking dude was talking about how he's going to be rich and great and what not, I just nodded along his shit dreams while searching for a chance to kill him. I had to wait until we reached our destination to get him killed.

And now we're here, riding at the top of A Horse With No Name (It felt good to be out of the rain~) going somewhere I don't fucking know. How I wish I had my phone stuffed with music here, if I miss anything from my world, besides not being in the fucking middle ages and my family, would be my phone stuffed to the brim with music.

All I can really do is sing the songs, which is a pretty fucking weak reminder of my old world, but I use what I get.

"...Fuck, I really should've gotten that cloak. I'll write it down for next time." The cold wind whooshes around me as I weakly sing to ease the boredom.

* * *

Eventually I found an inn that was in the middle of nowhere. They are more common that what you'd think. There's no one inside besides a redheaded Innkeeper and me. Thank god for no people now, would be troublesome if someone recognized me.

"A room would be 50 gold." Oh fuck.

"Uh, can you give me a second? I have so much gold that I sometimes forget where I put it." Nice one, shame that Ms. Innkeeper doesn't look a bit convinced. I hurriedly check my pockets for any change, wasn't expecting it to be so expensive.

While I'm trying to get gold so as to not sleep outside the Innkeeper starts to get a bit suspicious. "You seem a bit familiar, have you come here before?" Shit, don't tell me the guards have already started handing out those papers.

I raise my gaze. "Nah, first time I'm here, went here traveling with a friend, but the poor fool managed to get himself killed." I need to give myself a believable backstory the moment I get the chance. A rock hard story makes it easier to go around without people questioning me.

"Oh, I'm sorry for your loss." I'm sorry that I didn't get to bash the head of my kidnapper myself, I really wanted to let some anger out. Fuck, there's no more gold in my pockets. Time for plan B.

I look at her with my most miserable face, which can be argued that it's the one I always have. "H-Haha, uh, I kind of used all of my gold in a proper burial for my friend, could you please accept 20 gold? I promise I'll pay the rest tomorrow." I'll admit this isn't my best one, but give me a fucking break, I just escaped a kidnapping, I'm fucking done.

I must've looked really shitty because her face softens. "Don't worry, just 20 gold will suffice." Complete success, I wasn't even thinking about paying the rest, so it works out. After getting the key to my room and saying the good nights I head to rest.

The room itself is pretty okay for an inn in the middle of the road. After undressing myself of my Draugr Expert™ outfit (Which consists of a shitty gray robe with some fake books and a fake beard.) and my trusty belt, I throw myself onto the bed, they aren't as comfortable as the ones in my old world, but I already got used to them, so it doesn't matter.

Hopefully I'll be able to get out of here without being chased by guards for once, those damn papers shouldn't be arriving until a week later. Yeah, maybe I can get some proper rest for once.

Yeah, proper rest. With those nice thoughts I close my eyes and let sleep take me.

* * *

Of course I couldn't get proper rest.

There's hard knocking on my door. Ugh, not again. I quickly put my Draugr Expert™ outfit on (Without the beard, it already outlived it's purpose.) and open the door with all the nonchalance I can muster. There's a bulky looking guard with his KKK looking helmet, he's wearing the customary Stormcloak armor. He even has his sword drawn and pointed at me. How rude

"Francis the Fraud!" I'm not sure when they started calling me that. "You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people." I used to struggle containing my laughter at that one line. Then I got used to it. "Your crimes are as listed: thievery, bribing, swindling, resisting arrest and murder." Yeah, I was kind of busy those six months, tee hee. "Pay the court a fine or serve your sentence!" Man, I really didn't want to go to jail today.

"Alright Mr. Guard, let me just put on my belt here." I grab my belt and put it around my waist, once secured I pull out a shitty looking iron dagger from one of it's many pockets and throw it against the guard's chest. Thankfully it seems like he wasn't briefed on my dirty tactics and falls to the floor paralyzed. Okay, I can work with this.

"Aah!" That was Ms. Innkeeper, hopefully she doesn't go all fucking honor warrior so I don't have to kill her. I quickly grab the guard's sword and step over him. Once outside my room I see the Innkeeper crouching behind the counter. Good, no fighting, I suck at those. I give Ms. Innkeeper a thumbs up and then get the fuck out of there.

Once outside I notice that the horse left without me. Fuck me sideways, do I really have to walk? Ugh, no complaining now, there should be more guards coming here. I start running along the road all the while the cold wind gives me a proverbial middle finger.

I suck at fights, I really do, the only reason why I haven't been caught yet is because I exploited one thing from Skyrim, I really hated this aspect in the original game but right now it's the most useful one for me and it's incredibly fucking broken.

"Francis the Fraud! Stop where you are! Resistance is futile!" Fucking hell, the gang arrived, no more time for bullshit. I hear air being cut and an arrow lands frighteningly close to me. Shit shit shit. I hurriedly pull a random bottle from my belt, shit, hope this is the right one. I open the bottle and gulp it in one go. Tastes like shit.

Soon enough I turn invisible. "W-Where is he?! Look for him! He's avoided us long enough!" Why do I even wish for nice sleep? My prominent eyebags should already be tell enough that I'll never get one. I continue running along the road while invisible.

I haven't said my name yet, right? Well, these cunts already said it so any kind of dramatic reveal has already been fucked. Whatever, I'll go through with it.

The name's Francisco Guerrero, better known as Francis the Fraud, famous for swindles and murders. I hope we get along.

...I'm starting to talk alone now, I'm seriously losing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading this first smelly chapter! This story was originally posted in FanFiction.Net. I then suddenly remembered that AO3 was a thing! So here we are. 
> 
> This story is heavily inspired by 'Grin the Cheat' if the title doesn't make it clear enough. Still, more than the name and some fighting strategies this will be pretty different.
> 
> Chapters from now on will be posted on both sites at the same time, for consistency's sake. Hopefully this way more people can read my shitty story. The only things that are different from the FFNet version are the Author's Note, but those are basically worthless, so it doesn't matter.
> 
> If shit went right, all the other chapters should be already posted, so I'll see you there. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Francis Gets Fucked

The Whiterun market is as busy as usual. Mothers with their children deciding on ingredients for lunch, shopkeepers loudly announcing their products. It's quite the scene, pretty peaceful despite the noise.

I would take more time examining it if I didn't have a dagger against my throat.

"Uh, Miss. Could you please get that, uh, lovely dagger out of my throat?" The Miss that decided that my neck could do with new metal furniture is a redhead with claw shaped war paint on her face. Yeah, it's Aela the Huntress. Fuck me.

"Don't call me 'Miss', milk drinker." I take offense to that, I get smashed up on the daily to process the daily bullshit. Also that dagger is getting dangerously close, if I didn't know any better I'd say that you want to kill me.

"Well, okay, uh, person, yes, person. Can you please get your _not_ lovely dagger out of my very lovely throat?" Hey, stop glaring, you were asking for my unfunny response. She again clicks her tongue.

"I thought we made it clear to you what would happen if we saw you back here." Ah, yes, my relationship with the Companions can be described as 'complicated'. Only change complicated with 'We fucking hate Francis', just like everyone else in Skyrim, and you'd be good to go.

"Yeah, you said, and I quote, 'We'll teach you what's the meaning of pain', which, by the way, I already know, so I really don't need the reminder, although I'm flattered by the offer." So kind these people, always willing to teach the lesser kind. Okay she's starting to press the edge against my skin.

"Don't act like a fool, you knew the consequences and I'm more than willing to teach them to you." I'm pretty sure that some people may get aroused by shit like this. Thankfully I'm not one of them because I really like living and not being dead.

"What will you do? Kill me right here? Come on, even I know that's fucking stupid." I point towards the big group of people. "These people are just buying ingredients and overall having a nice day, you wouldn't want to go and ruin it, right? At least not like you always do..." My nice quip at the end is met with a punch to my face. Tee hee.

"Bastard, you planned this, right?" I hate how they instantly assume I did a fucking Sun Tzu move when I just wanted to hang out at the fucking market. They severely overestimate me, I don't work if they overestimate me. I answer her stupid assumption with a shrug.

Hey, why is she starting to pull her fist back? Fucking hell, is she really going to do a scene with me beaten up on the ground? Bitch, I'm the master of creating scenes, don't challenge the Francis-Fu.

Well, time to do the thing I got paid for.

I take a deep breath and loudly shout. "No! Please understand that I don't like you like that! You're a lovely woman, but it's just not meant to be!" This gets the attention of the entire market, with it falling into silence. It also gets a dumbfounded expression on Aela's face. Haha! Fool! That's what you get for messing with the Francis!

"I don't want to marry you! I know we've been friends since childhood, but I just don't like you like that! I can't marry someone that spends her time killing unsuspecting people with Skjor!" I can hear the 'Ooh~'s and the 'I didn't know that.', and I'm sure Aela can too, because she looks fucking pissed. Tee hee, there goes plenty of the respect they held towards her. Now for the nail in the coffin.

"And please stop asking me to participate in those weekly orgies the Companions have! I repeat, I'll never, EVER, have sex with dogs like you guys do! Sick fucks!" The moment I say that I slip from her grasp and make a pretty comical run towards the city's exit. I hear the distant 'Bastard!' and I can't help but giggle. Ah~, just another day at work. Bad thing is that I'll probably never step inside Whiterun, because I run the risk of getting fucking skewered by the furry gang. Bah, another one on the list.

Before I could reach the exit an arrow pierces my hand. Wh-What?! My hand is now stuck to the ground. Th-There are fucking guards here! Aren't you going to do something?! When I look at them they just fucking shrug it off! Do you hate me?! Is she getting preferential violence permission for being part of the furry gang?! Fuckers!

Also, this fucking hurts, if you didn't guess.

"Fuuck! Aela, please understand that I won't fucking marry you! If you love me, then please let me go!" A kick to my head. Owie, how mean, it even made me cough a bit of blood! Blood isn't supposed to exit the body! She then fucking steps on my head. "How dare you! Dirtying mine and the Companions' name just to flee from your mistakes!" If this was me from at least three months ago, I'd feel some sort of guilt.

Not present me though, tee hee hee.

"Yes, please keep stepping on me." This quickly makes her stop stepping on me. Oh thank god, I fucking hated it. Good thing that acting like a creep towards women makes it easier to slip away from them. Aela, instead of stepping on me decides to just kick me in the stomach. Owie.

"You disgust me, never have I seen someone so lacking in morals!" Piece of shit, have you even gone out of Whiterun?! Just 30 minutes on the road and you encounter fucking bandits! They fuck goats! Whatever, if she keeps insisting, then it'll just make my job easier.

I take a deep breath.

"Blah blah fucking blah, what the fuck's your problem?! I just come here to take a fucking stroll and you go point a dagger towards me, trying to force me into marriage! Good thing I rejected your proposal all those years ago, you deranged woman! Go have sex with your dogs! You twisted arsehole!" I shout these words as loudly as possible, making sure everyone and their deceased great-great-great grandparents heard it. She kicks me once again. Ugh, my tummy.

"Stop spewing lies! You-" Ohoho, my bullshit machine isn't turned off yet.

"Lies?! Was that night at Jorrvaskr a lie then?! I saw it! I saw the place where you commit those atrocities! And I know how you call yourselves, you mad bastards! The Circle!" She looks surprised I know this (Thanks Todd Howard for the foreknowledge), the best lies are founded in truth. "That group is composed entirely of-!"She gives me a sound kick to the head.

She loudly yells at me this time. "Don't you dare speak a word about-!" And with those words, I win. Everyone that was hearing in on our little scene heard her unwilling admission to all of my lies.

Tee. Fucking. Hee.

This time they aren't even trying to whisper. "Fucking with dogs? How sickening." "I never thought that she'd be so..." "How disappointing! For such a beauty to be a degenerate!" "Wait, so those howls come from Jorrvaskr?" Ah~ The sounds of a successful job! I mentally pat myself on the back, nice work Francis.

Oh wait, I still have an arrow going through my hand, silly me. With Aela looking around in disbelief, I use the distraction to rip off the arrow from my hand. Ouchie. After that I run the final stretch between me and freedom. Oh, before I go...

"Please stop following me! I had to move holds three times already!" My piece done, I exit through the city gates and leave Aela to deal with the consequences of my little act. I hear one last 'Bastard!' before I close the gates.

...Haah, feels good. Wasting no time, I pull out an invisibility potion from my belt. She's definitely coming to hunt me down. Gulp. Now I'm invisible. I start running towards the carriage that's waiting for me. The job is still not done until I get onto the carriage.

Thankfully, for once I don't get fucked by the Universe and I get onto the escape vehicle. When holding onto the cart I accidentally prick my hand with a misplaced nail. For fuck's sake, seriously universe? A fucking nail? My poor, poor right hand. Fuck, who cares. I enter the cart which has a nord sitting with the horse's reins and an argonian sitting on the passenger's seats in the wooden carriage. The argonian is wearing expensive clothes, while the nord just has regular civilian ones.

I stomp two times onto the wooden floor and the carriage starts to move. Can it be? Hell fucking yes it can.

The job was completed successfully. Yes! Go Francis! Number fucking one! That's why people try to reach me in the first place! I kick fucking ass!

While I'm silently congratulating myself, my argonian traveling companion clears his throat. Oh, yeah, forgot about him for a second, what a ditz. I take another bottle from my belt and gulp it down, I turn visible again. Fully facing him, he now asks me a question with the characteristic argonian tone.

"How did it go?" He's the asshole that gave me a job this time, contacted me while I was trying to sell some garbage scraps I found as Ancient Dwemer Toiletries™. I don't know how they're starting to track me down, but if it gives me jobs like these then I'm not complaining.

My hand forms a thumbs up. "Went fucking great, everyone now thinks that she's a dog fucker, an obsessive mad woman that follows her 'love' around Skyrim, constantly proposing to him and, as a bonus, the Companions now do Weekly Orgies, that may or may not also include dogs." My temporary boss stares at me for a bit before loudly laughing.

"Hahaha! This is hysterical! Should've known that someone that garnered a title like 'the Fraud' would be so effective! It's all that I wanted and more!" The sounds of a satisfied costumer. Ah~ music to my ears. He keeps laughing for a while. Man, must be really pleased with this shit.

I just wait him out, he should be giving me a bag of gold and after that I'll be dropped off in Falkreath, so I can just keep on with my swindling ventures. Shit, I'll have to go inside some dwemer ruins for more Swindling Material, because my Francis-Belt is running out of Magic Powder that makes you twenty years younger.

Uh, he's still laughing, I politely clear my throat so he gets the fucking message to stop. The mail thankfully arrives and he stops after shaking his head for a while.

I speak. "So, about that 1000 gold." Yes! 1000 gold! I'm not joking! That's going to cover so many nights in inns! I won't have to sleep on the streets nor work for at least 20 days! Those are going to be some fucking vacations! Maybe I can travel...

Uh, why are you looking at me with such a coy expression? You're a fucking lizard, how are you even doing that? "Oh, no, no, no, you didn't really think you were going to, you know, get out of here alive, right?" ...For fuck's sake, not again.

"Aw, come on! Why? Can't I just bargain for my life? Besides, do you seriously, _seriously_ think I'm going to rat you out?!" These people don't know that no one gives a shit about their evil plans! Argonian Piece of Shit just shakes his head while laughing.

"Hmm, maybe, perhaps. Still, I like to have no loose ends, you understand, right?"...Well, that's what I get for building even the tiniest of hopes. I should already know that you should trust fucking no one. Whatever, one more name to the revenge pile. Wait.

"Hey, so, what's your name? I'd like to have a name so when I turn into a ghost I can haunt you for eternity." Argonian P.O.S stares at me with some surprise before laughing again. Bah, even my death is a joke! Why are you laughing so damn much anyway?!

He talks in between laughs. "You- pfft, you really don't care, do you? Hehe, you're certainly interesting." I doubt I'm that original, there must be a thousand edgelords just the same as me. Argonian P.O.S stops his laughing. "Well, just because you're so funny, I'll tell you. My name's Nersei Nimareen. Try to remember it in the afterlife." Huh, coolio. I'd try to kill him right now, but I doubt I could, because there must be hidden assassins somewhere...somewhere?

"Uh, so, when do I die? I'm noticing a...uh, distinct lack of hidden assassins here." Can't my assassination attempt be at least competent?! Nersei chuckles. "Hahah, yeah, you're actually making me reconsider here! If you were just a boring henchman you'd be dead by now!" Well, I wouldn't, I already have emergency plans for that, because it's happened a tad too many times. But, reconsidering? That's new.

I cross my arms. "Reconsidering? Mate, you just told me I'd die, I don't know what the fuck you want now." This is one of the most weird assassins I had for a while. The top spot is occupied by someone who tried to smother me in my sleep with a chicken. I don't fucking know why.

He leans in and interlaces his hands. "I actually need people like you in my little organization. You're smart and, if your recent reaction is to be trusted, you're used to being pointed at with a sword." ...Is he actually trying to sabotage himself by including me in his little mafia? Fucking hell, also, heck no.

I raise my hands. "Yeah, no. Look, I'm kind of a freelancer? I just like to go around doing my shit. If you want me to do more jobs for you then that's fine, but I won't just sell my soul to you all of a sudden." Even a miserable fuck like me has some standards. Nersei is staring at me, maybe thinking about the best ways I can get brutally murdered. Hey, you never know!

He finally stops thinking and claps his hands. "I got it! I can get you to be a spy!" ...Is he actually stupid? He looks completely pleased with himself with that proposition. I look towards Mr. Driver to see if he also thinks if this is stupid, but he's busy driving us. Fuck you.

"Hahaha, uh, no, fuck off. If you want me to do shit for you, then you pay me. Also, where the fuck is my 1000 gold?" I know this cunt wanted to kill me just seconds ago, but payment is fucking payment. Nersei, again, fucking chuckles. I'm starting to get tired of those.

"Yes, yes, your gold. Always the gold, how can I even try to recruit you without gold? Haha, silly me." Nersei turns around and starts searching for something that's on the side of the carriage. Uh, could I kill him? Nah, not worth it right now, he actually seems keen to let me go now. Apparently finding what he wanted, he faces me again and hands me a hefty bag of gold. Wh-Whoa!

"This is what you'd have if you work for me. Thousands and thousands of gold! Every week! Tempting, right?" Yes, very tempting. I receive the bag. Whoa, it's heavy! I'm really tempted to just jump out of the cart with it, but...

Looking at the bag one more second, I hand it back. "Uh, yeah, sorry, if I have to be honest I have zero fucking faith in your shit organization. I mean, Whiterun? Is that where you want to set up? That's fucking stupid, you'd get caught in a fucking instant. That without mentioning that the jarl has a zero tolerance policy with assholes like us." That gets Nersei to erase any trace of amusement from his face, cold glare replacing it. Tee hee.

"Oh? I see you have quite the opinion, would you mind explaining further?" Why the fuck does he want the opinion of 'Francis the Fraud' of all people? I glare at him, he still doesn't pick the bag back. Whatever, it seems like whatever friendliness we had just went and died in a ditch while puking dog shit mixed with piss, let's just cut this fucking joke short.

"Yes, I would mind, you have people for that, right? Eat shit." Nersei sighs and opens his arms.

"We could've been partners, you actually had some potential. Bah, no matter, you had your chance. Goodbye, Francis the Fraud." Okay, how is he going to-

I fall from my seat towards the cart's floor, body completely paralyzed. Oh, haha, very clever, he poisoned me from the start, didn't he? How did he do it?

Ah, it was the nail, wasn't it? Piece of fucking shit put it there intentionally, must've had some kind of fucking poison there. Clever, very stupid of you Francis.

I only have energy for talking. "Were you seriously depending on me getting pricked by that tiny nail? That's fucking stupid, just like your plans to overtake Whiterun." This time my quips don't earn a kick, like with Ms. Furry Tits. He just chuckles.

"And yet you still fell for it. I've got to say that you were somewhat interesting, however, my plans no longer involve you. We'll be cutting this relationship short." Shit, can't move my body, only my fingers can. Okay, I can work with this. My fingers tentatively reach towards my Francis-Belt, don't fucking know what I have left, but anything's better than this shit.

The cart keeps going along the road, I have no idea where we're going, but if I have to take a guess, it's going to be a forest to dispose of my body. Is it sad that I already have past experience with this shit? I need time, how do I get time...?

Of course! Exploit the system! With great effort I talk again.

"But...why? Why would you want to overtake Whiterun?" I can't precisely see his entire face, with me being on the cart's surface and all that, but I can hear his pleased humming.

"Ah, wouldn't you like to know? Well, let me entertain you for a bit. I'll make your final moments a bit more pleasant, heheh." Oh thank god, he's fucking stupid.

"You see, there's a very simple reason, it starts with-" While he starts verbally masturbating in front of me, I use all of my strength to move my paralyzed hand towards the belt. Hnng! Hnnng! Yes! I think I have an antidote for paralysis in one of the daggers there! With great might I prick my finger with-

The cart bumps and with it I also jump, whatever I was planning to prick myself with got horribly changed to something else. Uh oh. That's what I get for putting antidotes in fucking daggers of all things. Am I really now on fucking russian roulette?! Nersei continues his shitty explanation being none the wiser.

"-and I say to him, Tansei, you ARE going to be big, you ARE going to achieve your dreams, so please keep on going! After that-" Holy fucking shit he's getting emotional. And I start feeling even worse! What the fuck did I poison myself with?!

I then puke. Why the fuck do I have to be the Universe's punching bag?! Nersei stops his rant about politicians when I throw my breakfast up. "Oh, I didn't know that poison was so good! That's perfect!" I'm going to fucking kill you. "Hey Svaken! Stop the cart! We're dropping this fool right here!" Wait, this is good. I decide to play the dying delirious fool.

"A-Ah...no, please...ah! I'm...I'm begging you!" It's like reverse psychology, the more you beg for your life, the more they want to kill you. Nersei chuckles. "Oho, how the mighty have fallen, you should've taken my offer. No regrets now!" The cart finally stops and Nersei kicks me out of the cart. I land on the dirt, okay, there are plants here, I can work with this.

I hear his laugh one last time. "Ha! Later, Francis the Fraud! Let's see if you haunt me in the afterlife!" I hear the sound of reins and the wheels of the cart going off somewhere.

...Ugh, I'm still incredibly sick and paralyzed in the middle of, uh, somewhere, I can't exactly see when I'm face down on the ground. Hey, that rhymes.

Hnng! I manage with incredible effort to turn myself around and I stop kissing the dirt. Shit, I'm in a road by a forest. If I don't get a move on I'll get mauled by wolves and/ or giant spiders. Thanks Tamriel. With all those fucking bumps I have no idea what dagger does what, so the option of prickling myself again is discarded. Shit, look around, look around.

I spy with my little eye, something...uh...Oh! Yes! I found something! I'm not dead! Shit, I just have to reach it, ugh, time to do what I like to call the 'ISIS Hostage Wiggling Escape'. Taking a deep breath, I start to wiggle like a worm towards my target. Yeah, not that fancy, but I'm already covered in vomit, I can't exactly get more undignified.

And so Francis the Vomit Shirt starts to wiggle with all his might! Yes! An inspiration to an entire generation! Uh, he also pukes in the process, but don't mind that! He's showing the world that he can't be stopped! No he can't- UUgggrrgh.

...Shit, I'm starting to puke blood, stop the theatrics! Just get there! Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. After what feels like an hour I finally reach my destination. Some fucking yellow flowers that were just three meters away from my starting point. I want to cry.

Bah! It doesn't matter! The flowers are within my reach! With stupid amounts of effort, I open my mouth. Okay, here comes the airplane~ Glomp.

...Fuck, I ate a bit of fucking stem. Ugh, I've had worse. I start chewing on the flowers inside my mouth, letting it turn into a paste.

...Okay, okay, I swallow the flower/stem paste with more gratuitous effort. Fuck, now I have to wait...Please don't start puking now, it would make all of my efforts fucking worthless.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes, fo-

I can move now, oh thank god! I use all of my remaining energy to stand up. Shit! Once again, Francis the Glorious and Great survives by sheer bullshit! I'm a fucking human cockroach! There's no killing me here!

Bah, I feel so fucking sick! I cover my mouth with my hand so as to stop my puking urges. I can't just throw those fucking flowers out. With my other hand I try to reach for a good potion. I start to feel around the belt...Oh fuck me.

The bottles are broken, whatever I had in them is just fucked now. I need to get a backpack, because this, once again, isn't the first time it happens. Fuck, time to stumble about until I find anything to heal myself with. Uh, the assholes went that way, right? Uh, fuck, no idea if that's south, north or norheastwest. I'll just go the opposite direction then.

Shit, the world's spinning, I need to distract myself. Time to sing really badly.

"Girl~ Close your eyes~" Yes, you're hearing right. I am singing Michael Jackson's Rock with You and yes, it is a kickass song. Sue me.

Hours pass with me stumbling along the road while badly singing 70's disco.

* * *

Oh thank god, gates! I had to fucking climb a hill to get here, but I reached a town! Finally! I don't recognize the place, with me being kind of half-dead and shit, but I doubt it could be important.

"H-Help! I'm poisoned and I'm dying!" No shame in asking for help when needed, soon enough I'm approached by two guards that by fortune don't recognize me. I can't really understand their questions, my brain is starting to shut off.

Beep boop, Francis is shutting down, please evacuate the area, chances of puking are 100%, I proceed to then puke all over the floor, wait, floor? When did I enter...ah, whatever, I need to fucking rest.

I close my eyes, letting sleep take me to, hopefully, a better place.

* * *

I awake.

Oh, I awake? That's cool. Awaking means that I'm not dead, also, you stop living when you die. I'm inside a normal house, there are uh, two plates with food here. Maybe it was a couple's house. I get up from the bed and notice the shitty magician's robes I was using for a scam being perched on a chair. Oh yeah, I'm in my underwear, what pervs.

After dressing myself, I go outside to see what the fuck happened to interrupt my hosts meal. It's probably important anyways.

Stepping outside the house I see, uh, is that a corpse? It's a nord with somewhat long hair that has an arrow on his back. What the fuck is going on? Looking to my left I see...Oh no, no. No, no, why the fuck?! No!

It's a big group of stormcloaks that have their hands bound, with a lot of imperial soldiers watching them. I also see a tall blonde man that has a piece of cloth on his mouth. Oh shit! No! What?!

This is the fucking intro! If I don't escape right now I'll get fucking toasted! Before I start my fucking off process I quickly search for whoever the fuck is the Dragonborn. Please don't make them a monstrosity only possible through mods.

Oh, that must be the one! It's a her, she has long red hair and is wearing that fucking potato sack, and she's also about to get decapitated.

...Oh, shit. I hear a loud roar from the skies. Shit! I need to get out! I start running towards the exit but someone stops me. It's a guard.

"Hey! You're that mage we found a week ago!" A fucking week!? "You finally awoke! Please, don't move that much, you could-" The guard is interrupted by another roar. I try to push him aside but he grabs me by the shoulder.

"Sorry, but people aren't allowed to leave while the execution is in process, please just wait for a-" I don't hear the rest of his sentence because I hear a very fucking loud thump from behind me. Shit!

I quickly turn around and see the Big Black Lizard himself.

Fucking Alduin.

How in the fuck did shit go so wrong.


	3. Francis Meets the DB

Ahem, so, where were we?

Ah, yes, Big Black Lizard (BBL) Alduin, Devourer of Worlds, perched on top of a tower. In Helgen.

This also means that if I don't get the fuck away right now, I'm dead. Thanks God, always nice knowing you're around watching me, you bastard.

Alduin gives the scariest fucking roar I've ever heard. J-Jesus! Time to hit the legs!

I push aside the nosy fucking guard and start running towards the gate, maybe if I run fast enough I'll be able to-!

Before I can complete my idea that of course wasn't going to work, flaming rocks start to fall.

The gate crashes down on itself, and it also goes up in flames. You've got to be fucking kidding me. What the fuck do I do now!?

Wait, dumb Francis, you know this sequence, you just need to follow the Dragonborn. Oh, nice going brain, for once you aren't trash. Aw, flatterer you~

Crazy talk complete, I run towards the Dragonborn. If I'm getting out of here alive then I have to exploit this world's tendency to suck the Protagonists dick. Well, Vagi- Bah, you get the joke.

Avoiding the rubble (How the fuck did everything get destroyed so fast?!) I make a beeline towards the Dragonborn.

Hey, now that I think about it, maybe I could take advantage of this...Oho! Yes! I can benefit from this! Before I can put the moves on her, I notice a stormcloak going her direction. Oh shit, I forgot about him. My moves will need to be put on hold, the last thing I want is Ralof now thinking I'm suspicious.

What to do, what to do, wait, I'm dumb. I change directions towards the nearest tower where all the stormcloaks are heading. If I'm going to follow her then I need to make it look like it's completely incidental. I'll leave the plotting for later.

I enter the tower and see the stormcloaks who were about to be executed plus Ulfric Stormcloak. Kyaa! Notice me senpai! One of them glares at me. "Hey, you weren't in the carts, who are you?" Shit, I have no clue if they know about me or not. Better create a fake name. Let me pick one from the list...

"My name is Lynvarr, I was just passing by when th-that monster attacked!" I actually have a lot of fake names for various swindles. I chose a Nord one now, pandering to the man and all that. The stormcloak glares even harder.

"You look imperial, tell me why I should let you live." Uh, yeah, that's the thing, basing it off people's account, I actually look somewhat closer to Imperials, which fucking sucks major dick right now because I'm hangin' out with the Anti-Imperial Fan Club, meetings every day after school.

"Well-" Thankfully, someone stops him before I'm turned into the wierdest piece of interpretative art in history.

"Is it really time for fighting right now? He decided to come with us instead of his imperial friends, that's enough for me." U-Ulfric noticed me? K-Kyaa, I'm blushing! Seriously now, I really don't like Ulfric besides the joke factor. The Stormcloaks are doomed to fail. There, I said it, fight me.

"T-Thank you!" I make sure to add the stutter and all the gratitude I can. I need them to think I'm innofensive and a dumb doormat, I'm gonna hit these fools like a truck when they less suspect it.

Ulfric shakes his head. "Don't worry, kid. We have bigger problems now." How wise Mr. Ulfric, you're the picture perfect definition of Wisdom. I'll make sure to think twice before completely disregarding your instructions and making offensive hand gestures.

After he says that, Ralof and the Dragonborn enter. Okay, coolio, let's keep the sequence going.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?" I tune out what they're saying, why the hell should I pay attention to shit I already know?

"Legends don't burn down villages." Very witty. Truly an inspiration for all of Skyrim and, perhaps, humanity as a whole. Alduin seems to agree as he just gives a huge roar of approval.

"We need to move, now!" Is this how you treat your supporters Ulfric? Alduin is vouching for you and all you do is- Okay, I'll shut up, lower the gun.

"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof starts moving and the Dragonborn follows him without a second doubt. I...well, I'm cut between following the regular sequence or to tag alongside Ulfric's Living Circlejerk. The fact that Windhelm is one of the few holds that doesn't want my head may be one of the reasons for this.

The second is that I have no idea what kind of Dragonborn this is, from what I've seen she isn't the kind to stab me to death with a spoon at the first chance she has, but I have no idea if...

Bah, why am I even questioning this, no one knows how many people from Ulfric's groupie even survived, and involving myself with them will fuck my chances of swindling both Imperials and Stormcloaks alike, I need to be neutral here.

Course of action decided, I follow the Dragonborn up the stairs.

* * *

The intro has been playing out as normal. Jump here, follow Hadvar, watch X be burnt to death by a Black Magic Lizard, keep following Hadvar, textbook tutorial shit. The only thing that's different this time around is that little ol' me is following the Dragonborn, all the while saying stuttered curses and the like. Lynvarr the Pussy needs to stay in character.

"Ralof! You damned traitor. Out of my way!" Oh, we reached the homo-erotic tension, great.

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time." Does he even escape if one goes with Hadvar? Will Todd Howard's glitchy nature carry over here? I'm actually curious about this.

"Fine, I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovn-" Sadly, this curiosity will have to be quenched, maybe murdered for the sake of my personal gains. Okay Francis, here we go.

"S-Stop! This isn't the time to s-separate!" I'm taking both of these assholes in, we're having a sale ladies and gentleman.

Both of them stop their lover's quarrel to stare at me in judging silence. Hey! Are you not moved by my words?! I had to stay in character you fucks!

"W-We're being attacked by thi- this Dragon! We need to stay together!" I seriously couldn't care less about their well beings, it's more about mine. I'm planning to have both of these cunts be my Free-Pass ticket to freedom. If that doesn't work then I guess I'll let both of them fight each other while I make a run for it.

Surprisingly enough, the Dragonborn decides to speak up. "He's right! We can't fight over this when something much bigger is happening! We need to stay together!" Oh? Could it be? Are my ears working correctly? Is she unwillingly helping me? Hehe, this is great.

For some reason, which I'm going to say it's the Universe being a dick, they seem much more convinced by her. Well, I'm not complaining, this works out.

Hadvar sighs. "You're right, we can't let these grudges kill us now in these-" Uh, guys, I know this is very emotional, but it's raining meteors! Why are you still outside?!

I start running towards the door that leads to the Keep. I'm entering the door that Hadvar enters in the original, if you wanted to know. Thankfully it seems like the other three catch on the idea that maybe it isn't safe to be outside when there's high chances of death and they follow me.

Once inside I take a deep breath that could put most vacuum cleaners to tears. Fucking hell, I thought I'd die out there, seeing this crap in person is much different than doing it from the safety of my room, in other news, red is a color.

In the brief moments of reprieve I have without anyone around I check my trusty belt. Here I have most of the things that let me not die horribly, it's my own Bat-Belt. It's name is Pinochet. Yes, Pinochet. I need shit to remember my country, even if it's the name of a dictator.

Let's see, let's see...Shit, I broke my tiny bottles, it's a mess of dried up poison in there. All I have left in these pockets are:

3x Shitty Iron Daggers  
6x Poisoned Shitty Iron Daggers (Unknown Effects - Test Later)  
1x Blowgun.  
0x Darts for Blowgun.  
0x Ingredients.

Fuck, normally I'd have my poisoned Daggers organized for me to just grab one and instantly know what it does, heck, two of these are actually antidotes to some of my poisons. The problem here is that my asshole Lizard Boss made me fall to the ground and disrupt my careful ensemble, I won't risk throwing these daggers out until I'm safe enough to pass out for at least five hours.

Amazing, this means that only have my incredible exuding charisma to help me here. Well, that and three shitty daggers, but those would probably break in two flimsy hits that would make any self respecting person laugh, and that's without taking into account that I suck at fighting. I'm the entire package, baby.

While I reach the conclusion that I'm more or less fucked, the rest of our half-assed gang enters the room. They are discussing something that I don't bother to listen in to, why the fuck should I? The moment I'm not in danger I'll ditch em' and maybe, only for shits and giggles, steal their belongings, again, only for shits and giggles. I'm the hero here guys.

Glancing to my right I see the Dragonborn checking the chests, oh right, chests, better stock up on shit, wouldn't want to be caught with my pants down, well, even more down if that's even possible.

I start checking the room to see if I can find anything. As I'm doing this, Ralof and Hadvar are in opposite sides of the room glaring at each other very passionately, maybe thinking of ways to romantically kill each other.

All I find is an iron dagger. Great, another shitty dagger to add to the collection, maybe I should open up a museum of daggers, where the real crime isn't the lackluster exhibition but the entry fee. Hm, maybe it isn't that bad of an idea. I mentally write it down in the mess that is my mental notes, I put right alongside buying skooma and selling it as headache reliever.

By the time I find my crappy loot, the Dragonborn is already outfitted in a factory new Imperial Light Armor set, making for a very good walking ad for the Empire. Ralof doesn't look very happy about her choice of attire, but otherwise doesn't comment on it. Hopefully shit doesn't go wrong here.

...Crap, I jinxed it, didn't I?

Ignoring my inner self inflicted turmoil, the Dragonborn, who I'm going to refer to as 'Dee Bee' (Not to be confused with the famous musical group known as the 'Kings of Disco', The Bee Gees.) for brevity's sake and because I'll lose my shit if I have to think 'the Dragonborn' again in my entire life, decides to move the show along. "Let's go! We have to move!" Whoa, what a leader. She pulls the chain on the wall and the gate opens.

Ralof and Hadvar, which I'm going to call 'Romeo and Juliet' respectively for pettiness' sake, seem to agree with my observation, as they start following her without any complaints. Huh, so that's how it feels to have people obey you without the eighty layers of bullshit. I also follow and make sure to do it while muttering 'Oh gods, oh gods' to myself. They need to think I'm a defenseless twat, which considering my piss poor equipment, isn't that hard to begin with.

We start jogging (Yes, jogging. Todd Howard was right.) through a stone corridor until we reach another gate with another chain. Okay, my plan may or may not die here. Hopefully with the added help of Dee Bee I can make this go along well. I can hear tidbits of a conversation from a couple of people. Must be the Stormcloaks.

Dee Bee pulls the chain and the gate opens, with that she enters and her hunky boy patrol follows, I just wait outside of the room, wouldn't want to interrupt this little scene, lest they decide that the best course of action is killing the backstabber piece of shit.

As they enter, the little back and forth begins. "Huh?! Imperials?! You bas-!" Thankfully Dee Bee is here to do my job for me.

"Stop! We don't have to fight!" Okay, I think I can safely say that this Dragonborn is one of the ones who don't like fighting, yes, my hearing capabilities are indeed impressive.

Romeo also adds in his quip. "We need to get out of here! Once outside we can go our own ways." After that there are some 'What?!' and 'Are you on crack?', after that the DeeBee-Romeo Tag Team hit them with more pacifist dialogue worthy of an Undertale fight until they finally say a "Fine, we'll follow you for now." Ah~, feels great doing fucking nothing~

With the risk of my intestines getting out of my body gone, I finally enter the room. The two newly recruited Stormcloaks don't seem very impressed by me, telling by their "Who is this milk-drinker?" and a poorly conceiled laugh, but I ignore it, I've done much worse things, that may or may not involve the use of cucumbers in orifices that aren't mine. In public. With killing intent.

Dee Bee, being the silently agreed leader of our team of assholes, opens a locked door so we can move on. We follow like lost puppies. While following her I feel someone tapping my shoulder. Hm?

Looking to my right I see Juliet glaring at me. "Why didn't you enter with us?" I have half a mind to throw a very unfunny quip at him that will make me more hurt than him, but I stop those intense urges by reminding myself that I'm Lynvarr the Pussy and not Francis the Great and Glorious.

I instead avert my gaze to the floor and start to make my upper lip tremble. "I-I-I was too scared...I was just going to visit some relatives and-" I feign a shaky breath. "And this happens...I-I-I!" I know that I made him uncomfortable enough when he awkwardly puts a hand to my shoulder and tries to squeeze it. Fucker, don't touch me, I have a severe allergy to human contact that makes me puke for four days straight.

"I-It's okay, we'll get through this." My 'Scared Shitless Kid' Act proves it's 100% effectiveness one more time! Nice going Francis, or should I say Lynvarr? Eyy- Okay, okay, I'll stop my mental wank, don't shoot me.

I idly notice the sneers on the stormcloaks faces minus Romeo. Aw, do you guys not like me? That's fine, I don't like myself either, in fact, if I saw you guys beating the shit out of me then I'd step in to help with a kick or two. God knows I deserve it.

While we're walking I notice three Stormcloaks in the distance. Oh, is this where...?

As I think that, Alduin farts hard enough to make the ceiling fall, almost crushing Dee Bee. Yes, you just witnessed a fart joke, please think I'm funny. Seeing as the entire hallway is just full of garbage now, Dee Bee changes directions and enters the adjacent room. Okay, now there should be more Stormclo-

...Uh, now there are Imperials? Didn't we go the Hadvar route?! There should be more Stormcloaks, not Imperials! Fuckfuckfuck.

One of the Imperial soldiers notices us. "Huh?! Stormcloaks! Damn rebels, you're going to fall!" Before Dee Bee can utter a word, one of the Stormcloaks we picked up earlier decides to intervene. "Curse you Empire! You're just the Thalmor's dogs!" Oh for fuck's sake.

Dee manages to speak up. "We have to-!" Before getting interrupted by the other Imperial. "Ulfric is doomed to fail! He should've died in that execution!" Fuck me, all my planning just went to die and go up in flames.

That last comment was the shit nugget that spilled the shit bucket. Our two fuckers we picked up grab their weapons and charge against the soldiers who also are now up in arms. Fuck me sideways. Dee Bee starts to raise her voice to no effect while Romeo and Juliet are trying to stop their teammates. Shit, shit, shit.

Still, this is salvageable! Romeo and Juliet where somewhat reasonable people! As long as I have those two I can convince the group that comes next to stop fighting! Yeah, I can save this! As I open my mouth to voice my idea to get the fuck out of here and hit the legs, an axe gets buried into Juliet's head by Stormcloak Goon Nº1 and at the same time Romeo gets stabbed in the neck by Imperial Cunt Nº2

...Shit, did Romeo and Juliet really end like that? I don't remember the part where all my plans just trip over and die. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, I need to get out of here!

As Dee Bee is yelling at them to stop, one Stormcloak soldier decides to attack her thinking that she's an Imperial because her armor screams 'I luv the Empire'. She doesn't have her weapon drawn. OH FUCK.

I quickly pull out a random dagger from Pinochet's Dagger Pocket and I throw it at the attacker. No fucking idea what it does, but it seems like a good time to test this. The knife cuts through the air with a 'whoosh' and it lands in the Stormcloak's back. "Argh! What the-!?" Before he finishes his sentence he falls to the ground paralized. I may suck dick at fighting, but when it comes to throwing knives? Hoo boy

With the fucker dealt with, I run towards Dee Bee who's looking alarmed at this shit and still doesn't have her sword drawn. Ah, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did I need to get stuck with the innocent one?! I idly notice that the remaining Stormcloak is getting an advantage against the Imperial. Fucking hell, I need to get out fast.

I reach and grab her arm. "Follow me, we need to get the fuck out of here." Considering her last performance there, she isn't used at all to fighting, which sucks for me because that means that she may die horribly in here, which leads to the world getting vored by Alduin. Fuck you Todd Howard.

"Wh-What?! We need to-!" I ignore whatever useless crap she was going to say and I start dragging her through the stairs. We still have several rooms full of soldiers and I have no idea what side is going to be in our favor. The fact that she's still wearing that Imperial armor just makes things worse. I'd ask her to strip immediately, but the only thing stopping me is the fact that there's going to be one and in a short while two Stormcloaks chasing us

I feel her trying to get away from my grip. "Stop it! I can move on my own!" I don't doubt that. What I do doubt is she staying alive, which, as previously discussed, is somewhat important. I ignore her complaints and keep going down the stairs, where there are sounds of fighting. Fuck.

Dropping my hold on her arm, I look at her in the eyes. She looks annoyed, eh, not the first one. "Look here, when I start running, you follow. Don't go and try to break off the fight, because you'll get involved and also killed." Without hearing her answer I turn around and peek around the corner to see the fight. Two Stormcloaks and two Imperials. They are focused on each other. Great.

"Now." I start running towards the exit. It's a shame that I'm losing the Mage Robes that are inside those cages, it could do for a wonderful disguise, but I think I'd prefer it much better if I didn't die. While I'm running I notice Dee Bee (I'm starting to get annoyed by that nickname, sounds fucking dumb.) following me. Good, she isn't that stupid.

Somehow I safely reach the exit while the fight goes on behind me. There's a hallway filled to the brim with cages. Jolly. I look behind me and see my reluctant follower. Ah, how the tables have turned. I run to the middle of the hallway and enter one of the open cages. DB (I'm cutting it even shorter, I got tired of the other one.) looks at me weirdly, but enters the cage.

DB whispers. "What are you even planning?! We should've helped back there!" I in turn look at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Helped? Mate, I don't know if you noticed, but right now both of those idiots are fighting for a civil war while this fucking dragon is flying around destroying shit. Besides, you don't seem to know how to fight." She frowns.

"What do you mean by 'I don't know how to fight'? I was only caught by-" I cut her by raising my hand.

"It doesn't matter, now shut the fuck up, I'm trying to see if one of these cunts follows us." She doesn't seem to get the memo though.

"What do you-?" I hold up a finger.

"Tshh!" This time she stays silent. Good. I peek around the cage and see a bloodied Stormcloak looking around the hallway. Fuck, they did see us. Whatever, this works, this works.

While the Stormcloak advances through the hallway I can hear his loud footsteps. Fucking hell, why does it have to be so dramatic? Eventually he inadvertently gets in front of the cage where I'm waiting at.

Pull out Shitty Dagger. Grab him and hold his mouth close. Stab stab stab his neck while he struggles and I muffle his screams with my mouth that has been bitten several times by now. Short while later and he stops moving. Okay, good. I drag his body into the cage.

While I do that DB is looking at me with her eyes wide open. "You were acting earlier, weren't you? I thought it was incredibly odd when you started dragging me, but now I see that you were just lying to us." Am I supposed to feel bad for that?

"Yeah, I didn't want to do shit, so I lied. Boo hoo. Now stay here for a little, I'm going to check out the next room." I leave her with the body and I advance through the hallway and peek the next room.

Fuck, full of stormcloaks. Why the fuck does it have to be full now?! Well, good thing I killed that dude just now. I return to the cage where DB is crouching next to the body while glaring at me. Hoho, she's going to be even more angry once I tell her my plan.

"Okay, see that nasty corpse there? Get him out of his armor and wear it." She stares baffled at me.

"What!? I can't just-" Bloody hell.

"Yes, yes you can. Now strip and wear that armor. Those are the last soldiers here, so wear the damn thing so we can move on." She glares even harder before sighing and starts to strip off her armor. Me, being the perfect gentleman with the only thing missing being my fedora, look to the wall while this happens. I have zero interest in seeing shit that will only get me in trouble.

I do however listen in for the Stormcloaks that may be following us. I manage to hear two sets of footsteps going down the stairs. Fuck, they're both coming for us. It seems like the now looted corpse's buddy also died there, that's good. I take a peek behind me and see DB putting the armor on. The thing's several sizes too big, but it'll have to do.

"Ready?" She nods. I go back to the hallway and wait right before the entrance to the cave with lots of rebels. "Put one arm around me, act like you can barely walk." She hesitates for a bit before nodding. She puts her arm around my shoulders and I start supporting her weight. Okay, time for me to finally use my talents. We enter the room.

I yell. "U-Ulfric is coming here shortly! We need to go through here towards the exit!" Every Stormcloak in the room focuses their attention on me. Good. The one closest to me talks. "He's coming?" I nod rapidly.

"Yes! I found him outside, but he told me to send the message, he's saving as much of our brothers as he can! I-I'm going to gather horses for you!" The one who asked me seems excited after my response. Jesus, they really are just one glorified Fan-Club. Others however don't seem convinced.

One voices their doubts. "And who are you? You are definitely not one of us, and that girl is wearing someone else's armor." I came here prepared for those questions. My swindling talents are boundless!

"I was just a traveler passing by when th-that monster came! Ulfric s-saved me from that beast and I'm repaying him!" Lynvarr the Pussy Returns. The sequel no one wanted. "A-As for the girl...well." I move my gaze towards the ground. "S-She was in one of those Imperial's cages, was without any clothes and..." This bit makes my interrogator gasps.

"I-Is that true?!" Thankfully, DB seems to catch on to my little act and plays along.

"I...Y-Yes, they wanted t-to interrogate me, but...I've b-been there for at l-least an entire week. They...T-They...!" She then puts a hand over her face and starts to fake an incredibly convincing sobbing. Whoa, she's good. Still, gotta keep the ball rolling.

"I-I had to give her something t-to cover herself up...This is all I could find that wasn't from the Imperials." My interrogator looks pissed beyond belief. "T-Those damn Imperials! They're going to pay!" Great, the more pissed the less questions. Everyone else in the room looks equally pissed. Interrogator turns around. "Let them pass! We just need to hold on just a little more!" Everyone replies with different variations of 'Aye!'

Heh, gottem.

Me and DB start to slowly move towards the exit. After this come the spiders, right? Shit, I forgot about them. Let's push this shit a bit more.

"C-Could someone please escort us to the exit? I-I can't really fight and she's..." One of them quickly nods and goes to my side, no one raises any complaints, so they must be fine with this. Heheh, yes, this went well. Nice one Francis. And, uh, nice one DB, I guess.

"I'll accompany you, just stay behind, you two, we'll be out of here in a minute." We? Oh no, no no no, this is not how this works, Mr. Meatshield.

Inner plotting aside, we moved towards a lever that activates a bridge. We slowly cross the bridge, because I have to pretend that she's fucking unstable. It's a pain in the ass, but not as big as actually fighting, so I'll take what I get. Once we cross the bridge and enter a cave, the entrance we just took got fucked thanks to Alduin, who just farted very hard again. Rude.

"What?!" Mr. Meathshield looks rightfully surprised at this painfully inconvenient turn. He yells at his team that's on the other side that he'll reunite and shit. Tee hee, well, he'll definitely go to the other side if you catch my drift.

Still, I have a character to keep. "I-I'm so sorry for this, I couldn't get her out on my own and-" He interrupts me by grabbing my shoulder. Oi, what is you fucks' problem with personal space? "Don't worry, I'll help you and your friend get out of here, now you're one of us, kid." Whoa, how comforting, I wanna be just like him when I grow up.

"Please stay behind me while I go ahead, if you hear trouble go the other direction." I shakily nod and he starts going ahead. I can't help it, once we're out of his sight I smirk with what I'll call the 'Guerrero Smirk' and I chuckle a bit. "Fucking hell, that went fine." Looking to my left I see that DB isn't as enthusiastic about this little swindle.

"Was it necessary? We could've just asked." Tsk, tsk, tsk, very foolish. Thanks to our escort being ahead of us we can chat in whispers.

"Nope." We start to slowly follow Meatshield. "If we didn't create this sob story they would've killed us the moment they saw your shitty disguise and my Imperial features." Even after my perfectly sound reasoning, she's still glaring.

"Imperial features...Why didn't you help them then? Do you not care for your people?" I thought she would've gotten a perfectly sound idea as to my crappy ideals by now.

"Pfft, those aren't my people, and even if they were I don't care. We would've probably died there and I'm not about to die for this bullshit." She changes glaring targets and is now looking at the ground.

"Why did you save me then? If you don't even care about all of them why did you save me?" Whoa there, you're making this sound much more emotional than it is.

"Because you're important to shit that's going to happen, and if you died then besides me getting fucked, everyone else is too." It may be a bad idea to fill her head with prophecy bullshit, but I don't really care how she turns out as long as she's out on Skyrim doing her legendary destiny mumbo jumbo.

"I'm...important...?" She looks deep in thought. Maybe she's remembering something, I dunno, I'm not psychic. While we trudge along we go through a little river and I find a skeleton with a bag of money. How nice of Shield to leave it for us, with us meaning me, no way I'm giving her gold, I need it more than her. I quickly pocket it.

While we're walking I notice the little river opening into another big cavern with spider-webs and some spiders. Ah, we arrived. Meatshield is waiting right before the entrance. Once we reach him he turns his head a little to see us.

"You're here, good. Look, judging by your clothes you know magic, right?" Oh, yeah, I'm wearing my mage outfit, right? It's really just for show, it doesn't do anything besides making me look smarter than I am. I nod. "I-I can cast fire and healing spells, w-when you go inside I'll be backing you up." He looks a lot more relieved and he nods. Tee hee.

"Okay, okay...let's do this." He grabs his Battle Axe and charges inside while yelling a battle cry. The moment he steps inside the caverns, four giant spiders that to this day give me fucking nightmares fall down. I get DB's arm off from me. "Let's fucking go, now!" I start running towards the exit of the caverns while the spiders start to gather around our friend.

He speaks up while hacking some of the smaller ones. "Now! Heal me!" Tee hee, he doesn't know I'm doing an Epic Prank™ on him. I Leave My Escort Alone With Nightmare Giant Spiders While I Run Away?! (GONE WRONG) (GONE SEXUAL) (NO FAKE)

Of course I don't heal him with spells I don't actually know and instead I reach the exit. I look behind me expecting to see DB close, instead I find her in the same spot staring in horror at our friend that's being slowly killed. For fuck's sake, I start running back towards her.

"H-Help me! B-Burn them! Aagh!" I ignore his pleas for help, opting instead for grabbing DB's arm. "What the fuck are you waiting for!? Get moving!" I start pulling her but she doesn't move. Ah fuck me! "Come on! We don't have much time!"

"B-But we can't just let him-" Why couldn't the Dragonborn just be a cool murdery dude? We could've shared drinks and cursed at everyone in sight. Haah, the missed chances.

"Yes! For fuck's sake, yes! We can and we fucking will! Now get your arse moving if you don't want to end up like him!" I point towards the horrible screaming that's coming from the pile of spiders that are as the name would suggest, piling unto him. The imagery is strong enough to snap her back to reality and this time she lets me drag her. We start running towards the exit and until we left that damn cavern behind. We hear the last of his screams there.

Eh, we lived, that's a good point in my book.

We reach another cavern, there's a little water passage and I can see a bear sleeping. Okay, we're almost there Francis, you can fucking do this. I look towards DB and she's looking at the sides. Ugh, for fuck's sake, I can't have her out into the world being this unstable.

"We're almost there, if you wanna mop around then do it after we're fucking out of here, now follow me." I crouch down and start to move as silently as I can towards the exit, DB follows. We pass alongside a cart that I have no idea how it got here. I grab a bag of gold and a health potion. Those taste like shit, but it works.

Both of us pass through Papa Bear's lair without waking him up. Yes! We're almost there! I can feel the weight of the bullshit almost off! Once I'm in a safe enough distance I stop crouching like a twat and I stretch. Fuck, crouching that way is never good for my fucking limbs. Checking on DB I see that she's fine. Coolio then. "Okay, let's get the hell out of here." I start running towards the exit. Freedom! I can feel the wind in my face and the ball freezing cold! Yes!

I step through the exit and I'm enveloped by Skyrim's ambience. Aaahh, yes. Francis did it again, baby. Bow Chicka Wow Wow. While I'm basking in my eternal glory I see DB taking a deep breath of the air. Haah, I'm finally free of her, now I can go do my own shit.

We both hear Alduin burp a final time and see him fly through the skies. Shine on you, Black Dragon...Yeah, that one was bad, wasn't it? Whatever, time to go our separate ways! I have bags to kick and money to chew, and I'm all out of money.

Sadly, she seems to think otherwise. "You...Why did you help me? You say I'm important but..." Leave me alone woman, I have more important matters to attend to, like sleeping and eating and pissing. Bah, may as well entertain her, I doubt we'll encounter again after all.

"Just because of that, otherwise I would've left on my own, although your presence did help me in tricking those assholes there, so that's that." I make one last check on Pinochet. I lost only one dagger, huh. Things really did go better than I expected.

"But still, how can you tell that I'm important in the first place?" I turn around and face her. Heh, let's be a bit theatric here, shall we?

"I just do, just as I know many fucking things from around here. In fact, just because I don't want you to die three minutes after I leave you alone, I'm going to tell you where to go!" Romeo or Juliet should be saying this shit, but thanks to me they're now dead, so that's that.

"You're leaving?!" What the fuck were you expecting. "You can't just go, tell me some nonsense about me being important and then just leave! I don't know where I am! I'm completely lost and you're just leaving me to my luck?!" These brats always asking and asking and never thanking. Tsk, how unrespectful.

"Yes, I'm leaving and I can go and do that. I already said I'd tell you where to go, after that you can just ignore my advice and piss around or follow it and become 'important', your fucking choice, either way I don't care." And that's the truth, while I should be worried about her straying from the path of the Dragonborn, as long as she's living then most shit should just solve itself. All I wanted was to escape from there and I just saved her in the process, no biggie.

I point towards the road that's in front of us. "Go down that road and you'll find three stones with some images engraved, touch one to get blessed by them. Only one! If you touch another one then the other blessing will go away. After that you just follow the path and you'll find a mine, it's full of bandits. If you're feeling lucky you can go and raid it, your choice. If you don't then just follow the road and you'll find Riverwood." DB seems to be listening with attention. Okay, great, I won't have to repeat myself.

"Once there, go and talk to the blacksmith, warn him about the dragons. He's called uh, Alvor I think, tell him that Hadvar sent you and then you make up some bullshit story or tell the truth, your choice, he'll give you shit to set yourself up and weapons. Then you go and talk to, fuck, uh, to Gerdur and tell her Ralof sent you, same shit as with the other one." She glares at me when I mentioned the now dead Romeo and Juliet.

"You want me to take advantage of their deaths?! You...you're a despicable man!" Huh, and here I thought that we were getting along. Heck, I had even half a mind to recruit her for more swindles if I had to. Bah, whatever.

"Yes, very despicable, although it's your choice. You _could_ go and just run off somewhere and get killed by wolves or bandits and the like. However, if you follow my advice, you'll know what to do and you won't feel as lost in this fucking frost land. You have a sword and some armor, in my book that's enough to get by for a week." I look up to the sky. Uh, west is here... Alright, Falkreath should be through there, cool.

I look at her one last time. "Hopefully we won't see each other again, consider this encounter just a one time thing only where you were blessed with my glory, now I go." I adjust Pinochet to my waist, dust off my shitty dirty robes and start my trek towards Falkreath. While I start my trek I hear the yells of DB.

"Are you seriously doing this?! You can't just leave me here!" I ignore her pleas and keep walking away. I'm honestly a bit disappointed in the Dragonborn, I expected a strong fucking guy or gal that just kicked the shit out of everybody. Instead I'm left with these somewhat decent speaker that I doubt knows how to use that sword. I want a refund.

"Tsk, at least tell me your name! I won't let you get away like this!" Argh, for fuck's sake, why the fuck does she care? She's alive, that should be enough. Well, whatever, this seems like a good chance and I doubt we'll meet again, Skyrim is a big ass country after all. I stop walking and I tilt my head towards her.

"The name's Francis! Francis the Fraud! Famous for swindles and murders! Hopefully we won't meet again!" Heh, so cool. Giddy stupid smile on my face, I continue my walk, I hear one last thing from her though.

"...Mine's Alvet! We'll meet again! I'll make sure of it!" Alvet, huh? Well, at least I have a name for when all the people start gushing over the Dragonborn now. I do one last bit of theatrics for the day, chances like these ones aren't many.

My arms open to the side while I walk giving her my back. "Welcome to Skyrim!" Heheheh, I'm such a dumbass. I don't hear a response to that.

Haah, I'm done. I did it, I survived.

...Welp, time to think about my next job. Money talks and I'm the money whisperer, and I need that money to go rest in my pocket, how they get there doesn't matter as long as it works.

I continue my walk towards the next big job.


	4. Morning Troubles

Birds are chirping, people leave their homes to work and the kids wake up to play. All in all, it's a normal morning in Rorikstead, a little village that's near Whiterun.

...Of course it's not normal you cunt, there's a reason why I'm narrating this crap. I'm working right now!

"Yes, ladies and gentleman! For the price of just 20 gold you can regain your hair! No more bald spots, just one use of the wonderful Hair Hello and you're ready to go!" The crowd stares in unconvinced frowns. Damn it, why can't they just be more stupid? I'm in front of the crowd of people wearing another shitty mage robe. I don't really like them, but they are useful for scams, so it doesn't matter. I'm also wearing a shitty bald cap, it looks awful up close, but this far away it does the job.

Fuck, time for the practical demo.

I pull out a bottle from a box that's full of them. It's filled with a blue liquid. F-Fuck, no matter how many times I do this, I still hate it.

Grabbing the bottle, I hold it up in the air for the crowd to see. "Look then! Rejoice in the alchemical miracle that is Hair Hello!" Sigh, well, here it goes. I pop the cap off the bottle and I drink it in one gulp. The foul liquid goes down my throat and I somehow manage to not puke all over the street.

"Haah! How refreshing!" Fucking disgusting. "Besides it's wonderful main application, it has a delightful flavor that will quelch any desire to drink anything else!" I'm not lying, drinking this shit makes you unable to ingest anything else without painting the ground a lovely shade of green. The things I do for gold.

Time for the finale. I put the bottle on the ground and I hold my waist with both of my hands. "Now! Witness this modern-day miracle!" I move my right index finger, making it hook with a little chord that goes to my back and, in turn, is grabbing the bald cap I'm wearing under my hood.

I pull the chord. The bald cap falls to my back, getting caught by the little basket that's attached to the small of my back. Yes! "Behold..." I grab my hood. "Hair!" I pull it back, my hair flows freely for the now amazed crowd to see.

"Wh-What?! He was bald just seconds ago!" "How in oblivion does that even work?" "My dad could use some of that..." Haha! How the tables have turned, unsuspecting crowd! They still seem a bit hesitant to buy my garbage though, but I already planned for that.

My little helper loudly shouts. "I want three of them!" It's like a magic spell, the moment he says this...

"No! I want four!" "One! It's twenty gold, right?" "I want the entire box!" Aah, the sounds of a fooled audience, music to my ears. This is a job well done.

I placatangly open my arms. I already won. "Now now, before I sell to you people the Hair Hello, you need to understand something." The crowd goes silent. Oh good, sometimes the bastards can speak for hours straight without letting me do the precautions. "The only reason why it worked with me right now is because I use it frequently! If you were to use it the moment you have it in your hands, then instead of regrowing hair, you'd just poison yourself." The excitement quickly changes to apprehension. It's fine, this is all within the plan.

"If you want your hair to regrow just like mine did, then please drink this just before you go to sleep! Only I can use it during the day because I constantly shave my head! Some may think it's foolish, but with Hair Hello I have nothing to worry about!" I reach towards my box with bottles full of wolf's piss. "So! Who's ready to say hello to their hair?" The apprehension from my previous statement is still there. This is fine, that's why I have my assistant here.

"I want the entire box for me!" Works like a charm. With Assistant's yell, the mood of the vicinity goes from general apprehension to Black Friday Evening. Everyone starts to head my way with bags of coins in their hands. Hahaha! Yes!

I pull out a chair I was bringing along with me and sit right besides the Piss Box. "Form a line dear clients! There's enough Hair Hello for everyone!" Heh, bloody genius, I knew that I could use those piss bottles for something! Me selling animal piss to country munchkins is a situation that Old Francis would never even come up with. He'd probably just shake his head in disappointment if he saw me, probably while hanging a noose on the ceiling to prevent future distress.

But fuck old Francis, current Francis is making a hefty profit! Bottles of colorized piss gets passed around like bread right out of the oven, just that this time the bread was a liquid that I wouldn't admit even to my mother that I have drunk more than 20 times and was also dyed blue, but they're practically the same, like two waterdrops!

"Remember to drink it at night! I won't be responsible for the misuse of Hair Hello!" I really hope these bastards listen to my warnings. Not because I'm worried for their safety, pfft, hell no, I'm selling them wolf piss for Christ's sake, if that isn't a health hazard the size of the Thalmor's war crimes then I'm David Bowie, only thing I'm missing is blonde hair, kickass voice and any sort of value as a person.

No, the reason why I'm warning them is because by then I'll be atop of A Horse With No Name (It felt good to be out of the rain~) and getting the hell away from here, not facing any consequence for maybe distributing a substance that may or may not be urine from a certain canine that may or may not make people very ill.

Right now I'm planning to go towards Morthal. Why? I dunno, I just felt like it. Considering my line of work, I can't precisely stay in one city for long. It used to be a pain in the ass to force myself to get out of the safe, bandit/wild life/general assholes/bullshit free walls, but considering that, you know, six months, I already am very much used to this. I don't really like doing it, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

Every time I have to fuck off somewhere, I choose a random hold to travel to and I hit the road while swindling as much money as I can from anyone along the way. It's been working all these months and I plan on keeping on with this. However, I can't precisely throw a dart and choose whatever hold it landed on, nah, many holds already have a bounty for my sexy, handsome roguish face. Can't blame them, if they didn't ban me then I doubt that there would be any pussy for anyone in Skyrim. Francis the Chad's aura of sexiness is too strong.

So, now that I'm passing along bottles of hate crime and I'm getting payed for it, I'm going to list the current ban list and the reason for said ban. If I'm going to be talking to myself for long then at least I want some context for whatever deity is currently watching my struggle. I'm looking at you Sheogorath, you swine.

The current list of cities that don't allow any Francis Greatness on them is as follows:

-Solitude. Turns out that royalty don't take well to jewelry that have the same value as any Redditor's opinion, which is none. At least I got to play a little hide and seek with all the Mr. Guards. I won! Tee hee!

-Winterhold. Mages don't take kindly to people trying to enter the College through fake fire magic fueled by oil and a bit of stone. Fake fire magic that was used against an alumni that was asking a tad too many questions that maybe involved my beautiful name in a not too pleasant light that may also involve some kind of hoax said alumni was victim of in the past...Fucking asshole.

-Riften. Yeah, the Thieves Guild are pretty uh, territorial? Seriously, there's enough space for two con artists you selfish fucks, you didn't have to do that entire intimidation thing with bags on my head and warnings of 'gutting my stomach' if I try to do a better job than them when it comes to selling crap. For fuck's sake, I've been less time here than everyone in that guild and their cons are garbage, they haven't had a taste of good ol' USA it seems. Not that I'm from there, but still.

-Dawnstar. I tried to take advantage of the Vigilants of Stendarr. You know, those shitheads that are a low quality version of a zealous Crusader. Sadly, said shitheads didn't have a place in their heart for little Francis, for they started chasing me once I tried stealing their food. Tsk, charity isn't a concept for them, is it?

-And quite recently, Whiterun. You saw what happened, didn't you? I already was in hot shit before that, but now that everyone think that they're dirty dog fuckers, the Companions will try to skin me alive to use my wonderful skin as a carpet for the now completely real furry orgies. Heh, that one was good, completely worth it, I better not step inside the city though, Aela isn't precisely known for being a nice person.

This list basically leaves me with four holds I can safely enter without making a contrived disguise with an equally contrived backstory that covers the birth and all the jobs I took before coming there. Thank God that I can just pick up random fucking clothes from a corpse and use it as my disguise, the fake beards are the problem. It's a pain in the ass to be wearing someone else's hair in my chin, and that's without counting how disgusting it's doing the whole 'cutting corpse's hair'.

Sigh, the things I do for gold.

Still, gold is what moves this world, and I'm not about to just die and rot in a road because I decided to be too lazy. I'm pretty sure that if circumstances were different, I'd just do fuck all and let shit go on. Sadly, said wonderful timeline doesn't exist, so work it is for me.

...For fuck's sake, at my age all I should be doing is flipping burgers or making horrible long term decisions, not selling piss jugs.

Well, these are quite the profitable piss jugs. Yes, I can already see it! If I save enough money on my way to Morthal I'll be able to sleep for an entire week there! A week of drinking and eating without selling whatever I have on my bag! Doing fuck all is going to be wonderful! Yes, I better sell all of these fucking bottles, that week of laziness is going to be mine!

The morning continues with unsuspecting people buying piss. Ah, the humanity.

* * *

Fucking brat.

"Oi, I told you that you got 60 gold and there it is. Now piss off." The little brat I hired for gathering people and shouting when needed is glaring at me.

"That isn't fair! You won way more than that! I want more!" The fact that I have to quite literally look down on him because he's just such a little bugger doesn't help his case. The little bugger is wearing some shitty clothes that of course he probably stole. There are a lot of times where my very legal shows need a backstage agent and, regrettably, I don't have a poor schmuck to always help me on my scams.

That's why whenever I'm in need of an agent, I use Plan B. The B stands for Bollocks.

Child Labour.

Capitalism is such a beautiful thing, isn't it?

"When the hell did I say that I'd give you more based on the sales? That's way too much, you should feel grateful that you get to eat in the first place!" The problem is that the little bastards always get greedy. Fuckers, can't they just be homeless in peace without bothering me?

"B-But that's still not fair!" My glare makes him falter. Heh, the Guerrero Glare still works against these assholes, nice one. Lil' Hobo lowers his head and looks up to me with teary eyes. "P-Please...I have nothing to eat ever since my mom di-"

"How sad, now shoo, I have places to go." His little sad display suddenly changes to a glare. You think you can fucking take me with bullshit? Fool! I am the master of lies and deceit! You are eons behind me!

Despite the overwhelming power difference, the lil' bugger doesn't give up. "If you don't give me more money then I'm telling everyone who bought your thing that it's fake." I narrow my eyes. Tch, what a snake, you don't bite the hand that feeds you.

Time for my epic gamer rebuttal. Everyone around the world is going to cum instantly in ecstasy as I fucking own this little homeless kid. Watch me mum! I'm gonna do the thing! 18 years for this moment!

"If you go and do that then I'm simply just going to take my gold back." Yeah, that's it. I could probably do a contrived ' _I know all of your secrets and that you wank at 9'_ thing, showing everyone how everything's under my control (Which is bullshit) and that I'm unstoppable (Which is even more bullshit), but just threatening with not giving them shit works. Simple is best, as I say.

This quickly makes him stop the bratty act. "N-no! S-Sorry for bothering you!" He then runs off to do homeless things. Maybe he'll go and somehow get canned beans to eat, the homeless passive status carries over from universes despite the era after all.

...I sigh. That wasn't really nice, was it? I don't have much care for when I'm swindling adult people and the like, but whenever it comes to children it just reaches the soft spot of my cold, rotten and possibly cancerous heart. I have the theory that my heart is just one big tumor.

When I started my ventures throughout Cap N' Crunch's Idea for a country: 'Oops! All Snow!', I was way more lenient with kids. When they asked for more money I gave it, when they begged for food I gave it. Then I started noticing that I was losing more than I was gaining money in my shitty charity ventures and I soon started to be a bit more strict with the bastards.

So I started my twisted version of charity. They work, they get payed. No more no less. It may be immoral to do this, but it's the only way I can justify giving money nowadays without having a stroke, so they better fucking work. If they don't then I'll lose whatever sense of fucked charity I have.

...Whatever, I'm done here. Looking at my gainings I see that I made close to 500 gold. Minus 60 for the kid and I'm left with 440 gold. I sold all of the Wolf Piss I got on discount by some weirdo, this left me with an empty box, so I went and sold the fucker for 10 gold. This leaves me with 450 gold. Seems like a lot, but if we take into account that I need to buy food both for me and the horse, and then some ingredients that I need...

Ah crap, I'm only left with 230, which is still quite the sum, but it will go away once I stop in the next settlement. The food is always somewhat coverable, but what drains my funds are the ingredients.

Yes, ingredients. If you have three fucking brain cells, then you may have noticed that I am a Potion Man, I do potions. The reason why is pretty simple. It's the only skill that doesn't require me to go the extra length.

Swordsmanship? It requires discipline, practice, posture, legwork and strength.

Magic? It requires study, creativity, massive knowledge of the elements, of the world surrounding us, and magicka.

Alchemy? Just start eating shit from the ground, see what it does and start mixin' it with other shit you picked from the ground. It's try and retry. Over and over again. And if I'm good at anything, it's at retrying shit constantly.

I start heading towards this place's market, I'll buy everything I need before people realize that piss doesn't make your hair grow back and after that I'm outta here. It's still morning, but time sometimes flies fast, so I'm not going to risk it.

All these thoughts about ingredients and alchemy take me back to my first two months in Skyrim. Eh, I'll take the chance to reminisce even though it wasn't that long ago.

My first nights where I had to sleep in the woods I spent it grabbing whatever seemed to work as an ingredient. I gathered them all while I sat under a tree, grabbed a leaf from the pile of flowers and plants I gathered in a despair induced search for an answer.

And started eating them.

Yes, I did the literal shit the MC does in Skyrim. I didn't know any better and I was desperate, I needed to get some leverage in this world, and if it was going to be through eating shit from the ground then so be it. So I ate and ate, taking note of what each plant did. I wasn't of course a master of those fucking ingredients, I couldn't actually pinpoint every effect that each plant had, but it was a start, and the feeling that there was something I could do to get some form of power in this world was simply put euphoric.

Fast forward today and I have not really mastered the art (I doubt I'll ever be able to) but I at least managed to be somewhat decent at it. The fact that even today I spend the nights in the forests eating those ingredients may be a reason why, after all, it's just been six months since I got here, and people take fucking ages to become good at the shit I'm doing. No fucking idea if this is the bare minimum whoever put me here gave me or eating shit from forests every night gives a buff to alchemy, but whatever it is, it helps.

Right now I'm able to safely create some shitty healing potions and poisons. The healing potions are a bit shitty if I have to be honest. But poisons? Hoo boy, that's my fucking jam.

When I started eating shit from the ground, the ones that hurt me the most where, obviously the poisonous ones. I was apprehensive about these bastards at first, why wouldn't I? It's literally poisonous crap that I willingly ingested and I had a ton more of those in the pile of grass and shit I collected, but there was something special about the poison though.

It was much easier to identify than the positive ones. I could eat a flower that restored my health, but it was really subtle, subtle enough for me to not notice it most of the times. However, in the case of, for example, a Deathbell, if I ate it I'd notice the signs of poison immediately.

So I started eating handfuls of Deathbells...Yeah, not that bright, but if it works it works.

And yeah, now I'm known in various holds and my head has bounties. Los caminos de la vida~ No son lo que yo esperaba~

Bah. whatever, that's enough exposition, I need to buy ingredients for an invisibility potion and the fucking food. Ugh, I got way too distracted, I better buy this shit fast, lest the new proud owners of Hair Hello turn into an angry mob that wants my ass as a hunting trophy.

The day carries on without much problems. Shit looks to be fine at the moment, hopefully everything will go smooth as butter and I'll be on my way to Morthal by afternoon.

...I jinxed it again, didn't I?

* * *

Dear Francis.

Stop wishing for good things,  
it only brings despair and chaos.

XOXO

-Francis.  
PS: Fuck you.

After writing my piece of modern poetry, I close my diary (Yes, I have one of those, b-baka) and I glare at the asshole who dared interrupt my wallowing in my own misery. It's a nord.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that, could you please repeat it?" I'm honestly surprised at my skill in feigning politeness, I really am in a bad mood right now, because how the actual fuck was I supposed to know that the brat would just go and let my fucking horse go?! This changes fucking everything! I now need much more food for the travel and I also wasted a lot of money in horse food that is now fucking useless!

Although I was the example of perfect politeness, my voice didn't quite agree with my intentions, so it just reeked of annoyance. Great, this is going to be so much fun when people drink the fucking piss bottles and I'm still in fucking town.

"S-Sorry, but I wanted to know...Are you an adventurer?" ...Wait, isn't this cunt a follower or something? Uh, how was it? Erik something?

Wait...I could...Nah, nah, way too much trouble, I'd miss the silence of my solitude and my singing sessions. Still, I have to answer, better keep up with the persona I used at the Piss Sale.

"Nope, I'm just an alchemist!" His face changes from hopeful to disappointed. Daw, come on now, don't cry. "Haha, don't worry! I'm sure that a real adventurer will come here eventually!" Hopefully the Dragonborn can take him just so the quest is done. Wait, she had a name right? Uh...Alvin? Yeah, Alvin, forgot about that. Why the hell would someone name her after Alvin and the Chipmunks...?

"Yeah...sure." He turns back disappointed. I could still call him over and take him as my little disciple, but there are two reasons for why I'm not doing that. First, what a fucking pain. Second, what a fucking pain. Very mature, I know.

The sun enters through the busy inn, workers are all excitingly chatting among themselves and enjoying a fulfilling meal. Me? I'm just in a corner brooding and generally being an unpleasant person. Business as always.

I'm a bit cut on what to do now. My original plan was to go on horse towards Morthal. It would've lasted for uh...two days max. and I would get to profit some money on the way. But without the fucking horse I'm more or less fucked, because while I could walk there, I definitely can't do anything with the low amounts of food I have. Atop of a horse? Yeah, more than enough. Walking with my useless two legs? Nope, I'd fucking starve or die from the cold. Fuuck! What a pain!

Reaching towards my shitty backpack I pull out a map of similar quality. It's crudely drawn and if it wasn't for the fact that I knew this game beforehand then I'd just think this is a very naughty drawing.

Let's see, let's fucking see...Markarth? I just went there though, I'd have to either come with another disguise or just go as regular issue Francis...Bah, whatever, no way I can go to Morthal now, and if this shitty map can be trusted, there's an inn pretty close by, just half a day of walking!

...Yeah, Past Fracis would get a stroke seeing that last sentence.

Welp, fuck, better start moving right now, I have no idea how much these assholes will persecute me, but if I get to that Inn then I already won for the day. I stand up from my seat, grab all my shit, put it in my shitty backpack and in the corresponding Pinochet pockets. I then ask the Innkeeper for a bathroom. Or a 'shitter', as they call it.

Once inside I Dress Down (Fuck that song's good.) and change into the Real Francis the Fraud Outfit™, action figures when?

I don't really have a complex outfit. It's basically just some leather pants of decent quality with a leather top, it's basically just an Off-Brand Thieves Guild armor, just without the mental issues. I still cover the armor with a cloak, because if the people I just sold a product to take notice that the seller may be a Capo de la Droga then of course they'll be asking for refunds using their pointy pitchforks.

Pay the meal, grab my shit, and fuck off. This is the much repeated process I've gotten so used to...Fuck I seriously need like an entire month of nothing. Just me and a bed, some drinks and a nice cozy fireplace, add to that some nice warm bread and I'm in heaven.

I shake my head. This is no time for wet dreams Francis! You still need to run away to escape from the eventual angry mob! Oh, nice one 2nd Francis, I love ya'. Stopping my delusions of no bullshit, I grab my things and fuck off.

Or at least, I try to. My attempts of pursuing freedom are stopped by a voice. "Hey you! Come ere'!" Was that directed at me? I look towards the voice and yup, a dude is looking at me with a drunken expression, he's wearing some black robes and has black hair. Fucking hell, don't tell me he recognized my sexy face. Can't blame him, I'd too remember my face if I wanted to kill me.

Putting on my salesman persona, I approach the asshole. "Ah! Did you need something?" I doubt that my practiced smile is in it's best state now, but fuck it, I wanna be free~

Mr. Cunt looks at me with a uh, challenging gaze, I guess. "You look like someone who can hold his liquor. How about a friendly contest to win a staff?" ...Oh, fuck me. My eyes widen like dinner plates at the recently discovered demon's proposal. What the fuck do I do now?!

Wait, why am I asking that?! Of course I'm steering clear! "N-No, thank you, but I have to part now! Perhaps s-some other time!" I couldn't avoid stuttering, this really came out of nowhere. I quickly turn around towards my bags to flee the figurative nuke behind me.

I grab my backpack, Pinochet is already on my waist. Okay, now towards the door. I grab the Inn's door handle and ope- "If you go outside I'll personally make the rest of your pathetic life a living inferno." ...Fuck me sideways, what the hell did I do in my past life?!

Swallowing spit, I turn towards the Demon Lord in disguise glaring at me. His somewhat drunken appearance is now a terrifying sight. I-Is this what encountering a daedric prince feels like? S-Shit. He beckons me with his hand, doing the 'Come here' hand gesture. Well, not like I have much choice now.

My feet feel like lead in the short journey towards the powerful being. I-Is this karma?! Is this what I get for trying to survive by using literally everyone as a stepping tool?! I-If I have any regrets, it's that I never got to kick the Universe in the balls.

Somehow I manage to not die from a heart attack on the seconds long journey that felt like minutes. The literal hellspawn puts a hand on his chin and examines me with an eyebrow raised while humming. F-Fuck, I don't really remember what he did, I really should've done my homework with Daedric Princes. Then again, why the fuck would I even expect to encounter one of these fuckers?

After more humming, he finally stops his kind of intrusive examination. "Hmm, you're certainly an interesting one, you really shouldn't be here, do you?" He knows about my shitty Self-Insertness, help. "What's better, you knew about me, about my...nature." Fuck me, is this seriously a conversation we should be having in the middle of this gathering of burly men?

"I...ugh, what do you want, Sanguine?" Whaza! The plot twist is that I actually know him! Haha! Always in control! I calculate my every step with complex mathematics worthy of a nobel prize! My IQ of 1 gazillion is too much to bear! Tsk, all these low IQs mongrels don't even compare to me. And yes, I do watch Rick and Morty, how did you know?

Sanguine loudly laughs while clapping. Mate, you look like a seal. Thankfully for me, it seems that Daedra can't read minds because he keeps doing a pretty accurate imitation of a seal. I patiently wait for him to end the little outburst.

He speaks in between laughs. "Heh, certainly interesting! Just one glance at me and you already know my identity! I hit the jackpot coming to this village!" Should I be sad by the fact that he's the only person outside my family that's been so happy to meet me? And that said person is a fucking demon? No?

"Yeah...what do you want? I'm basically worthless." No point in lying to him, heck, if I even tried to bullshit him I'd probably get turned into minced meat with a side dish of potatoes, hmm, potatoes.

Sanguine waves off my perfectly valid point. "You think I don't know that? You are indeed worthless to me, however, there may be something to be saved!" I don't remember Sanguine being a Charity kind of person, nah, I figured it was more on the Burning Orphanages for Shits and Giggles side.

He stands up from his seat and jumps at top of a table. "I am Sanguine! Daedric Prince of Debauchery! And I've seen an awful lack of debauchery lately!" I hurriedly look around to see if anyone is hearing this shit. Nope, everyone's still singing and drinking, none the wiser of the asshole screaming blasphemy. I blame magic.

Sanguine dramatically points at me. "You! You'll be the one tasked with bringing debauchery to Skyrim!" W-What?! He ignores my baffled expression and keeps on with his nonsense. "I want a tribute of chaos! Lust! Greed! Sloth! Gluttony! I need you, young friend, to make that tribute!" No! This isn't fucking happening!

"W-Wait! You can't just fucking throw this shit like this to me! I'm no one! I can't-" Sanguine interrupts me with an open hand. "Yes you can! I saw your little show back there, heh, piss bottles? That's amazing! You just made an entire town sick only for some pieces of gold!" I really fucking hope no one is listening to this right now, because my whole little gig will do a backflip and die horribly.

He presses on. "And I've heard of you! Francis the Fraud they call you! Ha! You haven't even been here for an entire year and you're already in the minds of people!" Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, I really don't want to fucking commune with demons right now. Think, think, think.

Bingo! "Can't you get someone more interesting than me? The Dragonborn just arrived in Skyrim, you know? You'd better save that quest of debauchery for her." Nice one Francis, just deflect it towards Alvin, she'll manage. Sanguine looks at me with a serious expression. F-Fuck, what now? "The Dragonborn? You DO know way too much..." Am I going to die now?! "...Haha! You just made me more interested!" FUCK. "Also, she? You know the Dragonborn? Hahaha! This is going to be great!" This backfired horribly! Mayday! Mayday!

I'm grasping at straws now. "Wh-What the hell do you even mean by bringing back debauchery?! It's way too vague!" I-I do have an idea but...it's way too bad! No! Sanguine, as if reading my thoughts, smirks wildly. "Yes! Yes! Exactly what you're thinking!" Oh Christ almighty someone please free me from this curse called breathing.

Sanguine points at me dramatically again. "You'll create the most successful Brothel in Skyrim's history!" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I'm shaking my arms from side to side at this point. I'm sweating buckets. "No! No! Ten thousand times no! I can't! I simply fucking can't! I'm not special in any way! Go look for someone better than me!" Sanguine ignores my pleading with a shake of his head.

"What's the point if an experienced person does this? None! Absolutely none! But if we take a person who most definitely isn't from Nirn? Haha! It's exciting, thrilling, and quite possibly hilarious!" Whoever put me here, fuck you. Fuck you with all my heart. Sanguine puts a finger to his chin in faux-thought. "And of course, there needs to be a reward for your efforts! What about my Rose? I take it you already know of it, yes?" Oh fuck you.

I know that my next words are fucking suicidal, but fuck him, my bullshit-o-meter is full. "Fucking seriously?! The fucking Rose?! You were going to give it only for doing some drunken antics and now you're doing the same for creating a bloody brothel of all things?!" Instead of killing me instantly, Sanguine starts laughing loudly. "You even knew of my plan! Yes! I'm not regretting this! You're most definitely an interesting human!" It backfired again! Francis you stupid cunt!

Sanguine starts to shake his head while laughing. "Heh, yes! You're right! That would be unfair now, wouldn't it? So let me up the stakes! You make a successful Brothel, and I give you, let's see, considering that your entire person reeks of sloth and greed...TWENTY THOUSAND GOLD!" HOLY FUCK! Jesus! Shit! You son of a bitch! This fucking changes things! That's enough gold to assassinate the Emperor!

I stop adamantly shaking my head and instead stand up straight. I make my voice serious and concise. "When and where do you want that Brothel?" Sanguine chuckles. "Ha! There we go! Now you're singing another tune!" Of course I'll basically bend over for fucking gold, why the hell would I want that dinky Rose? Uh, besides monetary value I mean. Sanguine jumps from the table to the ground.

"You were going to Markarth, correct?" I nod. "Perfect then! I want you to make that Brothel in Markarth and I'll be happy with it as long as it has an abundance of greed, lust, sloth and gluttony on it. Basically a complete Debauchery Themed Brothel!" I quickly pull out my diary/quest marker from Pinochet and I write the specifications down. "As for when...Hm, I'm a man of little patience, I'll give you two weeks!" I stop writing and instead opt to look at him with bafflement.

"T-Two weeks?! This kind of shit takes time! I have never done shit like this before and I already know that it takes time!" He's having none of it though.

"Excuses! You do it in two weeks and that's final!" Ah fuck me, I'm so fucking dead. "If you don't reach the deadline, then I'll just kill you!" I-I just wanted to travel in peace! What did I do to deserve this?!

The Daedric Prince thrusts an open hand into my direction. "So! I'm a man that likes his deals traditional! Shake my hand and you'll take my job, you don't and, well, you get the idea." ...Fuck me, I'm just cursed to suffer stupid bullshit like this, don't I?

"...Yeah, well, fuck it." I shake his hand. "I'll...start working once I arrive in Markarth, I guess." My new employer laughs. "Hoho, no, no, you start your work now! I expect you to at least have some sort of base once you arrive there!" Ugh, I hate going the extra length, most of the time is fucking pointless.

"I- Whatever, It'll be done." Didn't expect to be making deals with devils when I awoke this morning, but destiny works in funny ways, doesn't it? "I will uh, go to Markarth now." We stop the uncomfortably long handshake and I go back towards my bags. Once I have them secured on my back, I head towards the door, not without being interrupted by the laughing voice of Sanguine one last time.

"Good luck Francis! I'll be watching you!" Definitely not creepy. I don't bother with the goodbye, I'm pretty sure he'll keep a close eye on me.

I exit the Inn.

"...Fuck me." I just wanted a week-long vacation, not a sudden pussy quest. Aagh, whatever, what's done is done. No point in crying about it. After taking a deep breath, I start walking towards the path that leads to Markarth.

Haah, when I started my bullshit adventure, I didn't expect to commune with devils to become a Pimp.

Still, bullshit or not, I do have one certainty in my mind. I'm not going to die, and if to not die I have to create some Brothels, well...

Markarth is going to be turned into one giant fuckfest. It's name shall be Whore Land, and I'm gonna be it's King, Lord Francis the Pimp.

...Yeah, I really didn't need this shit in my schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it, it's not much, but at least I get to update this story from early on in this site. All subsequent Author's Note should be the same from now on.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	5. The Great Milenko - Part 1

F-Fuck! Finally! I can see in the distance the walls of Markarth, standing tall and proud, also they're probably mocking me for being such a tool.

It's been close to four days and oh god is it horrible going somewhere with a timer, I can't even properly sleep without worrying about wasting time that should've been spent uh, turning me into a Pimp. It was too weeks, right? I've already wasted one and I have no fucking progress beyond surface-level plans that would make a five year-old laugh at me with complete disdain.

Still, those surface-level plans are all I have right now, I know that Sanguine said that I already should have something done by now, but what the hell was I supposed to do?! Find Lorenzo the Whorelord on the road and become his protege?! Stumble upon a 'Get a Legendary Brothel for Free Card?!

That's the other fucking thing, it can't be a normal brothel, nooo, it has to be 'the best Brothel in Skyrim', which is incredibly fucking stupid! Two weeks! Just two weeks for god's sake! And I have no fucking idea what the general landscape in Markarth is! How is this even supposed to work out?! Hope for the best and shit will go right?! No! Fucking no! Why the hell does this-?!

...Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. Get hold of yourself Francis, remember that at the end of the day this is a job, just another fraud. Yeah, maybe the circumstances were complete bollocks, but what can you do about it? Just stop your whining and get it done, then get a hefty reward and piss off somewhere, maybe fall in love and pop out three ugly children in a leper riddled village, I dunno.

Thanks 2nd Francis, now hide before I stumble before a fantasy psychologist and I turn into his fever dream. Short little mental breakdown done, I continue walking towards what's probably going to be my grave, how jolly.

Still, there's quite some distance between my pathetic feet and the city, so now it's a good time as any to go over my napkin level plans that most probably will end up with me dead in a ditch, which may or may not also be a public bathroom.

These plans are called the Please End my Neverending Suffering. PENIS for short, please think I'm funny. Let's start with...

PENIS PLAN ONE: DO SOMETHING WITH THE DIBELLA PRIESTESSES. PROCEED LIKE A BAD NTR HENTAI. PROFIT?

Okay, okay, please for the love of god don't pull the trigger, I swear this is going somewhere!

Dibella, as far as I remember, was a goddess of all things love and sex, I'm sure it was worded differently, but it's basically that. The thought popped into my mind to come up with some sort of bullshit to uh, 'corrupt them'? It sounds pretty stupid, I know, but I couldn't think of a better term for that.

Faults with that plan: ...Uh, everything really. I mean, come on, how the fuck am I even supposed to convince these group of completely devote people to whore themselves out just like that? It's dumb and it won't work, but still, having stupid options like these available may help in the long run, if only because I get to have some sort of last resort hope.

If my attempts at getting an entire group of people from the get-go fail, then it would come to...

PENIS PLAN TWO: START FROM THE GROUND UP. SOMEHOW BECOME PIMP LORD IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS. PROFIT?

This one has fucking everything against me, I'm sure that if I had a lot more time, hell, just a month even, I could come up with something feasible, but I can't really create a brothel out of air like that, it requires a lot of things, be it connections, an initial big inversion to start, motherfucking people. I lack all of that, and me gaining all of those in less than two weeks is unrealistic. And this is without counting the fact that there are more people there with businesses that won't like me, which they may express in a very violent manner involving pointy sticks in my back.

So, if I can't start from the ground up, maybe I could do with a little boost, which brings us to...

PENIS PLAN THREE: SUCK THE SILVER-BLOODS' COLLECTIVE DICK AND GAIN THEIR FAVOR. KICK-BOOST MY WAY TO VICTORY. PROFIT?

This one was one of the plans that I gave much more thought, I mean, it covers much of the things I have difficulty with! Gaining their favor let's me do as I please in Markarth without getting in trouble, I could probably ask for some sort of funding for my little project and just having their favor grants me most of the connections I could ask for. However, if you've been paying attention you'd realize that of cours this has one glaring, horrible, disgusting and detrimental issue.

The issue: I have to do the Cidhna Mine quest, you know, the one where you get sent into the most secure prison in Skyrim that no one can escape and kill the leader of the forsworns, a terrorist group that's flooding the fucking place, all ready to stab me to death at the first sign of hostility.

Fuck no. I know that I'm throwing away a lot of benefits by forgoing this option, it's a pretty high-risk high-reward one, but I'm not fucking taking it. My normal day-time job of conning people is dangerous and risky, yes, but there's a completely different level between selling fake hair products and escaping a terrorist filled cespool.

So at the end of the day, any attempt to start a new business, with or without boosts, ends up with me killed either by other people or by Sanguine himself, great, just great.

However... However, I came up with ONE idea that...may be feasible. Ladies and Gentleman! Introducing with honors...!

PENIS PLAN FOUR: REPLACE A SMALL HEAD HONCHO. MAKE CHANGES UNDER THEIR NAME. PROFIT? HELL YES.

I could go and explain this joke of a plan further, but what's the fun in that? I'm going to be an asshole and not tell you, tee hee.

The walls of Markarth are getting closer, fucking hell, first things first, I need to find a place to crash in and then I start my evil machinations, lest I have to sleep on the streets like a uh, homeless person. Jesus Christ, my Guerrero Charm is starting to run out, I need to fucking sleep.

With wishes to finally take a rest, I continue walking forward.

* * *

Shit.

I get thrown against an alleyway with great force. Fuck! I manage to raise my head and look at the asshole who just kicked me out of his business.

"If I catch you inside my place again I'll cut you to pieces!"

"You'll be hearing from my lawyers! It's a five man team! All located in Washington!"

"What the hell is a lawyer?! Tch, it doesn't matter, just stay away from my business, vermin." He prompty turns around and loudly closes the door. Ah fuck me, this isn't even the first time this happens tonight. I stay down for a couple of minutes trying to pass away the pain.

After that I get up and dust myself off, fucking hell, that's what I get from snooping around in places I shouldn't be, also, this just gave me a new splash of bad news in the already big pile of bad news with an added fistful of suffering, for shits and giggles of course.

These fuckers already know about me, as in the 'Francis the Fraud' thingy that for some reason people gave me. I mean, I don't precisely make efforts to stop it from spreading, but in moments like these it just kicks me in the balls.

...Fucking hell, I hate past Francis, because he just had to go and fucking introduce himself with his real name, like a moron, instead of creating a fake alias, like a smart boy AKA me. Bah, whatever, the night is young and I have lots of local brothels to visit, I need to pick the one that I like after all.

I grab my notebook from the shitty backpack and a stick of charcoal, and start writing the name of the brothel alongside the rest I've already visited. The list is as follows.

-Dwemer's Delight

-The Lusty Nord

-Soft and Wet

-The Amazing Chest

And adding the one that just kicked me out...

-The Front Tail Service

Yes, I don't know why all of them are some form of shitty pun, owners must feel pretty good about themselves though.

Fucking hell, can't say that I don't have competition, and I just have a week to put em' down. Well, I could live in co-existence with them, but I'm supposed to have the 'Biggest Brothel in Skyrim' now, so trimming down the assholery will just do me good.

Okay, let's see...Oh, that was the second to last brothel in Markarth, I just need to check one more and I'm done with reconnaissance. Now where's that?

I look up from the notebook, where is it? Can't exactly ask for directions if I don't know the name of the place. Hm, I could go and leave it for tomorrow morning, but again, I have the clock whipping my ass constantly, so I can't do shit that'd be normally advisable.

Uh, shite, maybe I could ask a guard, they're known for being friendly after all. Nodding to myself, I pack the notebook and go towards the street.

Exiting the hallway I'm presenting with Markarth's glory and holy shit is it different from the game. I've already been here before, but the sheer size of this place will always amaze me. How the heck am I supposed to find this remaining brothel? I quickly look around to see if I spot a Mr. Guard, hmm.

Ah, right there. I start walking down a street surrounded by shady buildings, most of them are part of the brothels I already explored, but for the life of me I just can't find this other one, must be pretty shitty. I approach Mr. Guard. "Hey, can you help me please?" The pointy helmet turns towards me.

"Huh? What do you need?" Oh thank god, sometimes these assholes try to get smart and start power tripping real hard. Kill unarmed citizens hard.

"I need to find a uh, brothel yes." I can't see his face because of the helmet, but I'm sure that if I could see his face it would have a raised eyebrow.

"Can't you look around? You're surrounded by em'." Smartass.

"Yes, I know, I'm looking for a specific one, don't know where it is."

"Look, I dunno what you're talking about, just walk around and-" For fuck's sake, this is going nowhere. I grab my notebook and flip the pages until I find the list. I show it to the guard.

"No, see, I've been to all of these already and I'm sure there's one left, do you know where that one is? At least tell me the name, will ya?" The guard instead of answering me just stares at the page. After thirty painfully long seconds he turns his head back to me.

"What kind of freak goes to every whorehouse in town? Can't you be happy going to one of em'?"

"Oi, I haven't uh, used the service of any-" He snaps his fingers in realization

"Ah, I see then! You're one of those degenerates that want lizards or cats in their beds." ...D-did he just call me a furry?! Before I can go and defend my honor with all the self-righteousness I can muster, he talks again. "Well, looking at that...list of yours." Oi, what's with the accusatory tone. "I can tell that you're missing The Shack, and for the love of Talos don't go there." Sounds ominous.

"Huh? Why? What's so bad about it?"

The guard fucking _shudders_. " _What's so bad?_ With those kinds of questions you won't survive long here." Bitch, I'm a living cockroach, I'm immortal. "That place...Just don't go near there, you'll either get your organs turned inside out or you'll lose whatever kind of money you have left."

"Isn't losing money like the whole gimmick of brothels? Seriously, you still haven't given me a reason not to go there, in fact now I just want to go only for the sake of not following your advice."

The guard shakes his head. "Look, I know that you freaks need a, uh, specific kind of company in bed, but believe me when I say that one night of your weird tastes there isn't worth it." For fuck- bah, whatever, no way I'm changing his mind in that. Still, I need to know where those weirdos are.

"Look, I won't even fucking use their services, I just need to know where the hell they are." Mr. Guard gives a loud sigh.

"Whatever, you kids nowadays just go and do all these atrocities against nature so casually. The Shack can be found if you go down that street and turn to the left, then you..." He proceeds to give me directions and whoa is it far from whore street, it's basically at the outskirts of the city, pressed against the walls instead of the rest of brothels that are located more closely to the center, where activity is plenty at night.

While I'm writing down the directions of the place, Mr. Guard keeps talking. "Seriously though, what's up with you? You must be one of the youngest degenerates I've seen in a while, most of em' are all excited to lose their purity like excited puppies and here are you, asking for the breasts of fucking lizards of all things. Freaks, the lot of you." What a massive bellend, I give him a 9/10 in the Guerrero Asshole Rating. The only 10/10 is the Universe itself and me of course

I could try and defend my honor against this guard, but whatever comes out of my mouth will probably be used against me, so I just focus on writing the directions. The Guard keeps yammering on about freaks or whatever, with all this anti-furry propaganda he's just making me think that he's a closet pervert. After finishing the notes I look up to Mr. Guard who's staring.

"You do know that you're actually going to die there, right?"

"Yeah yeah, I know, I'll also lose all of my organs and get turned into a confusing piece of interpretative art, who gives a shit." I close the notebook. "Either way, I have to get going, hopefully I'll have all my innards inside me tomorrow." I start going towards The Shack without even saying goodbye, because fuck him, I'm not a furry.

I do hear one last thing from him. "Please try to die in a clean manner! It's going to be a mess picking your corpse tomorrow morning if you don't!" I'll give him points for being a dedicated asshole and not faltering once, a round of applause for the underpaid gentlemen.

Ugh, for fuck's sake, this is going to be a pain, hopefully that local just ends up being empty so I can promptly forget about it and never think about The Shack again. The bloody fucking shack, what a stupid name.

* * *

Well...at least the name was accurate?

If the directions were indeed correct and I didn't just got pranked in a very epic way, then what's in front of me is 'The Shack'. It's located in the middle of an unassuming corner of the giant walls of Markarth, with no other buildings surrounding it, which makes it stick like a sore thumb. The Shack itself is a building that's smaller than an Inn but larger than a house, the entire structure is built with regular old wood instead of the repurposed ruins that are throughout the ancient city. All in all I have to say that yes, maybe I am running a high risk of making my little organs go poop.

The fact that there isn't any source of light here and I'm relying on my eyes to distinguish things doesn't help the weird atmosphere at all. I seriously don't want to enter there.

...Ugh, I already made the trip here, let's just get this over with. I make sure to have at hand my poisoned daggers and various potions, I have a feeling that shit won't go well for either me or them, most probably me. I do one last checkup on myself and take a deep breath.

Welp, let's a go.

My footsteps clack against the hard stone floor, making loud footsteps that aren't making me not shit my pants. I approach The Shack, always looking behind my shoulder for any funny guy with pointy sticks and I get in front of the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

...This is so unnecessarily tense, please just open the damn door.

As if peeping into my thoughts, the door opens with no one being behind it except for the infinite darkness beyond. Fuck me, couldn't you at least do it in a non-generic way? I mean, it's working, my pants are indeed close to going haywire, but I need to make literally shitty jokes to keep them at bay. Poop poop.

Hilarious comedy that rivals The Big Bang Theory done, I step inside definitely not holding a dagger under my pockets. Once I step in the door closes behind me and-

Light, tons of candles light up at once in two lines making a path towards another door. Hm, nice production they have here, how do they do it? Magic? Complex pulley system? Bullshit? Any of them could be true at this point. I step forward towards the door that the candles want me so much to open.

I put my hand on the doorknob, what the actual hell is beyond here? Maybe an actual business? Or perhaps another fucking hallway? Shut the fuck up Francis and just pull the door open you pussy. Whoa, that was very rude of you Guerrero, I expected more of you.

Swallowing spit, I pull the doorknob down and push the door open and of course there's more pitch black rooms, jolly. Despite the multiple alarms screaming loudly in my head while doing a whole motherfucking orchestra with flamenco dancers where the main piece is called ' _FRANCIS YOU DUMB FUCKING IDIOT_ ', I take a step forward.

Again, the door closes itself, leaving me in total and complete darkness, with the air feeling extremely more heavy. What the hell happens now? My grip on my poisoned dagger gets somehow even harder while my other hand grabs the invisibility potion, with the thumb right above the cap, ready for instant consumption. _What now?!_

The answer finally comes when the whole room gets lightened up by numerous candles, making me regain my vision.

Now that I can see I...I-I see...

I see- Pfffft! For fu- Pffffft! You've got to be fucking joking! This can't be happening!

The moment my eyes fully comprehend the scene before me I stop believing in this world is even remotely real.

There's about four women, lizards and cats with, I kid you not, fucking _mime makeup,_ they're all making what I'll assume is their definition of a sensual pose, which is something more akin to an awful yoga position. At the middle of them there's a tall man wearing fine clothes and a white mask with holes for the eyes, nose and mouth, it'd be pretty frightening if it wasn't for that silly hat nobles like so much he's wearing and the other dumbasses posing besides him. The room itself looks like a normal hallway with rooms at the sides. What the hell is up with this place's outline?

Mask Dude opens his arms and speaks with a voice that most definitely hasn't hit puberty yet.

"Welcome, my dear wondrous traveler, to The House of Ecstasy and Pleasure of Markarth, prepare to let all of your stress and worries go and to experience real pleasure, your dreams shall become the true tonIGHT-" His voice cracks, oh god. "Uh, shall become true tonight, yes." He quickly puts his arms behind his back and looks to the side embarrassed.

After he lamely finishes the speech that was probably rehearsed for hours, the floodgates I was trying to keep closed come bursting out with the force of five thousand angry horses with rabies.

"...Ha...Ha, ha, you've got to be fucking- PFFF!" I start to laugh with no regards for the other cunts in the room, any kind of tension that was built up here is now broken and beaten on the floor, maybe while crying about a divorce. I put a hand up to my forehead while laughing.

"You've got to be fucking joking! You have to be, if not then you just-" I take another look at the group that made fool of themselves seconds ago. They stopped posing and instead they're now either staring at me with annoyance or looking at the floor ashamed, with fucking mime makeup. Mr. Mask is fiddling with his stupid hat.

This makes me laugh even harder.

The cycle of laughter goes on for two minutes of uninterrupted chortles. The members of The Shac- Oh sorry, the 'House of Ecstasy and Pleasure of Markarth' just stay silent throughout the whole ordeal.

Eventually though, all good things have to end, so my glorious laughter that can probably cure Medieval AIDS gets toned down so I can talk to these dumb fuckers.

"Heh, okay, okay now, just-" When I look at them again they're still looking at the floor with their stupid mime make-up making their ashamed expressions even more noticeable. It takes all of my self-control to not start laughing again. I clear my throat instead.

"Okay, okay...no more laughter, I'm fine now, let's-" Guerrero for the love of- Just stop laughing. "Let's talk, yes." They don't seem that thrilled to talk with me, but Mr. Mask shakes his head and looks at me.

"O-Okay uh, I guess that you didn't come here for our uh, services right?" Why the fuck is someone this young running a fucking brothel? I mean, I know that I'm not precisely an old man and I'm looking to do the exact same, but shut up, I'm getting paid/obligated to do this, it's different.

"Yeah, I actually came here to scout the place, heard some pretty spooky shit about The Shack." At the mention of the name, Mr. Mask groans loudly.

"For the love of- That's not the name! It's called The House of Ecstasy and Pleasure of Markarth! Not that other awful name!" He's stomping the floor while saying this. Whoa, he's got some temper.

"Aha, yeah. Can we talk somewhere else without the uh..." I look towards the mimes who're glaring at me. "Workers. The respectable honorable sensual workers."

Mr. Mask loudly sighs. "Yeah I guess...Just follow me to my office." He turns around and looks towards the circus of sadness. "Not today girls, please rest." They make sounds of agreement and fuck off towards one of the rooms. Mr. Mask looks back to me.

"Let's go then. We have uh, much to discuss...I think." He really is trying to keep up the mysterious persona, isn't he? He starts to walk towards the room at the end of the hallway. Welp, let's see where this goes, I follow him.

We enter the room, it's a regular looking office, with a desk, chairs and books and all that stuff. I'm wonderful at describing places, I know. He goes towards his desk and sits in the chair. I sit in the chair in front of the desk.

Mr. Mask holds his head with his hands. "...So I guess that you weren't that impressed by The House of Pleasure and- Ugh, who am I kidding? It's just The Shack at this point." He sighs again. "What do you even want? I'd like to think that you wanted to spend the night here but your uh, reaction tells me otherwise." Maybe laughing so much wasn't that good of an idea...Heh, of course it was.

"I was actually checking out all the brothels in town, you were the last one left." And even with all the stupidity, it may be the one that suits my needs at the moment, which is incredibly fucking sad.

The boss baby opens his arms tiredly. "Well, here you are, welcome to the fucking shack, can you go now? I want to rest in my misery for a while." ...Before I do something I may deeply regret, I need to get a bit of exposition on the place, wouldn't do that I get fucked by ancient voodoo curses the moment I start my plan.

"Why is this place so...weird? The dude who gave me directions spoke of this place like if it was built with children's bones or something over the top like that." He groans.

"Well, it's not my fault that these people don't know what true pleasure is! They are ignorant of the mystery! The intrigue! What true sensuality is!"

"True sensuality? Mate, your employees are the complete opposite of-" He slams the desk and stands up, pointing a finger at me. Is that supposed to intimidate me?

"Don't you DARE saying that! Don't you know who they are?!" I shake my head while holding in any sort of sound resembling a laugh. Can you blame me? It's not my fault that his voice breaks constantly.

"They're the greatest group of artists in Skyri- No, scratch that, Tamriel! Nirn even! They're masters of the night arts! They will wake up the world from their self-induced sleep and show them what true FUCKING love is!" He's way over his own ass.

"Oi, aren't you too young to be saying shit like this? I doubt you're older than twelve." Another desk slam.

"I'm not twELVE-" He stops when he notices the voice crack. We stare at each other in silence for a moment, I can practically feel Mask's desire to run away.

"...Yeah, sure buddy, definitely not twelve. I'm very convinced." He groans again and it sounds just like a brat's groan. He flops back to his seat.

"Uuughh, I'm not twelve! I'm fifteen! That's like, a lot you know?" For fuck's sake.

"What the hell are you doing here? Last time I checked, brothels were a big boy thing, and fifteen most definitely isn't big boy age, also can you please get that mask and your hat away? I can't promise you I won't start laughing if you don't."

Boss Baby groans yet again and complies, taking off the ridiculous accessories. Yup, way too fucking young. He has short blonde hair and looks like a dumb teenager, hell, he even has a healthy share of acne. He truly is the picture perfect definition of a 15 year old.

"Happy? Ugh, seriously, what do you want?" Well, I doubt I'll get a better chance than this one, the other brothels are way too air tight for me to hijack control of them, so this little shithole will have to do. Let's get down on it~ Get Down on it~

I lean forward and intertwine my hands, resting my head on them, Gendo Style.

"I'm going to turn your shitty business into a successful one that will be heard about from all of Skyrim." I honestly would've preferred to associate with a less shitty place, but beggars can't be choosers, and no way in hell I'm starting a new business, I'm just going to steal it from someone else.

Boss Baby looks at me with skepticism.

"Yeah, sure, you're also going to grow wings and start giving bags of gold to the beggars. Just go away."

"Brat, I'm here to stea- _fix,_ I'm here to _fix_ your goddamn business and this is how you treat me?"

"Yes, because I'm not stupid." Debatable. "Just go away and join the others in their collective mocking." Oh believe me when I say that I really want to do that exact same thing, I seriously want to laugh at this joke of a place with fucking mimes.

"No, look, I can seriously fix this mess for you, I'm not fucking joking here, I _will_ turn your business into something that doesn't make the entire country laugh at." I honestly don't know if I can, but he doesn't need to know that. Also the fact that this basically is an underdog story but with fucking brothels doesn't go past me. I hate my life.

Boss baby gives me a glare.

"Why? All you did the moment you got here was laugh at my girls for minutes on end. I'm surprised you're still here."

"Ho ho, believe me when I say I feel the same, but I'm running out of options here and this place is more or less what I needed."

He frowns. "What do you need it for? We're not precisely popular." That's an understatement. Honestly I don't have the energy to come up with a web of lies now, so I'll just say shit straight up front.

I put on a dramatic voice that makes the pants of everyone in a ten kilometer radius to drop instantly.

"Sanguine himself told me to create the greatest brothel in Skyrim, one that shall be known to all throughout the country, one that songs are written about. And this one, my friend, looks just perfect for my purposes, you should be honored." I'm being completely truthful here, it's stupidly convenient for me, which just proves that whoever's behind this universe is a lazy bum. While this place may be at the outskirts with practically zero traffic, that also means that I have no competition from the other badly named brothels. Heck, even if it wasn't for that, the fact that this miserable business even exists and has a roof would be good enough for me to start my shitty plan.

Of course instead of garnering the complete and utmost respect from the mime cunt, I instead get a glare filled with skepticism.

"Whoa, you really are weird, can you leave? I don't feel safe with you anymore." Oh for fuck's sake, is the mime freak seriously telling me I'm the weird one?!

"Oi, I'm serious, I'll turn this place right around, besides, it doesn't seem like you even know how to run this poor excuse of a brothel" _This_ gets him angry.

"Hey! It's not my fault we're like this! It's the people's! They just don't know what's good anymore!"

"Oh shit sorry, didn't know that mimes were the hottest thing around! Sorry for being o' so short-sighted mighty mime king."

"I'm serious! And what's a mime anyway?" Oh you've gotta be kidding me.

"Well, your gals! You know, the stupid as fuck makeup they're wearing."

"First of all, it's not stupid, it's sensual." I glare at him for that dumb sentence. "Second, it's not a maim or whatever you're saying, it's night artist make up!" Ugh, I feel like I'm going to regret my next words.

"Look, I was planning to just tell you my whole business plan and proceed with all that gold thing, but this stupid crap already got me hooked. The fuck's a night artist?"

The moment I say this his eyes light up with life that had been missing throughout our whole conversation. He really likes fucking mimes.

"So you want to know about the night artists?" Not really, I just mostly want to know what drove them to wear such dumb makeup. I nod however to get his little exposition.

He clears his throat. "A night artist is an exceptional individual who specializes in the art of bringing someone else to extreme heights of pleasure and ecstasy."

"So they're just whores then." He ignores my quip of course.

"They've been around for years, _thousands_ even! Always lurking in the shadows, bringing pleasure to the unsuspectful! Entire kingdoms have fallen under their heel! They wrap people around their finger and make them do their will! They're a constant of the _universe_." He's delusional.

"Uh, what about their shitty makeup though, why do they wear that?"

"Why?! What kind of- How can you ask that?! It's obvious!" It's not. "It's to hide their faces! It brings out the mystery! The sexiness! It's- Bah, you wouldn't understand, you plebeians have horrible taste." What the fuck's up with him, seriously.

Ugh, I'm getting fucking tired of this shitty back and forth, I'm going to give this asshole a wake-up call so we can get this over with.

I sigh. "Buddy, look, I don't know if you haven't noticed, in which case please get your eyes checked, but no one, I repeat, NO ONE, finds this shit sexy except for the occasional freak, and even then they wouldn't even step inside this shithole because it's way too fucking creepy."

He's looking at me as if I just punched a granny, pissed on her, doused her in gasoline, set her aflame and then made popcorn with her teeth.

"You-! You can't be serious! What the hell do you mean creepy! The ambiance here is anything but that! It's sexy, mysterious, intriguing, ho-"

"Mate, everyone thinks that they'll lose their guts if they come here! And that make-up you're all wearing isn't "mysterious", no, it can either be creepy or fucking hilarious, how the fuck do you even come up with that shit? I never would've thought I'd encounter fucking MIMES in Skyrim!"

...After a few moments of silence, Boss Baby gives a sigh and loudly head-slams his desk. Jesus fuck, careful.

He groans. "I didn't come up with that...It was my dad, he made this wholly unappreciated make-up. Oh how I wish I was smart enough to come up with something as equal as that."

"Didn't you tell that your mi- _night artists_ were ancient? I doubt your dad was immortal." He raises his head a bit to glare at me.

"He was an elf. Of course he was ancient." ...Huh? Elf? He doesn't look like an elf or half-elf, he looks like a nord. Still, I'll roll with it for now, maybe he was adopted.

"Oh, so he passed away or something and you inherited this place?"

"Exactly...now seriously, can you go away? You've already done enough damage to my confidence..." Oh ho ho, you think we're done? Your confidence will be my punching bag you moron.

"Yeah, no." Time to tug at his heartstrings. "Look, do you seriously want your father's business to end like this? A shitty excuse of a brothel that no one wants to go to in fear? I think that would be a disservice to your night artists, right? I will fix your business, and I'll make it great! The best thing since breathing!" He doesn't look that convinced, but eventually he sighs and all I can see is resignation.

"...Fine, whatever. What do you want in exchange?" Normally I'd ask for a share of the profit, like any sane person would do. However, due to my not sane circumstances at the moment, any sort of profit that I make right now will be useless if I fail, and even then, if I succeed I get 20 thousand gold! That's great! Still, to make this plan successful I need one thing.

"I want complete control of your business, as in I can turn your brothel into the biggest public toilets if I want." Predictably enough, he looks flabbergasted. He stops resting on the desk and stands up.

"What?! No! I refuse! No deal! Out of here!"

"Ah come on! It's worth it! Just imagine the gold! The _sweet sweet gol-"_

"Don't speak in that weird tone! And what the hell, do you seriously think I'm that stupid?!"

"Yes."

"Bastard! Get out of here before I stick a...uh, lemme see." He looks around for anything to stab me with. After ten seconds of fumbling around he finally turns to me with a piece of parchment. "Uh, paper I guess. Bah! Whatever! Just get out!" Welp, I didn't want to rely on this, but a job's a job.

I speak in a scary tone, uh, well, what I call a scary tone. It could perfectly be incredibly silly, redditor level silly.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Listen, there's two ways this can go, we either cooperate in a very friendly relationship where once I'm done I fuck off and never see you again, or...Well, I can take your business by force and impersonate you if needed. I can make pretty convincing crime scenes, you know?" He looks at me with a glare.

"Seriously? Threats? Also what's up with your voice? It sounds pretty dumb." U-Urk! M-My self esteem...

"O-Oi! It's scary and menacing! Not dumb! And besides, that's not the point! Come on! Just lemme take over your place for two weeks or so and I'm done! What the hell do you have to lose anyway?! Hell, you're benefiting even more than me!"

"I have a lot to lose!"

"Like what, come on, tell me, what do you have to lose apart from this creepy fucking place and four people that don't even look like they want to be here. Why the fuck do they even stay here by the way?"

"Wh- They stay because I pay them of course!"

"With what?! I doubt you even make a piece of gold a day!"

"I-I have my savings! They'll do for now!"

"Aha, yeah, and what when they run out, do you think they'll stay with the freak who keeps putting white paint all over their faces? No! They'll just go away and tell everyone about your weird tendencies and then no one will want to step a foot here! No, you're screwed if you rely on that. Oh gee, if only someone was offering you to turn that situation around..."

The little freak stares at me with an open mouth. Heheh, I won. Nice one Guerrero, masterful move. You truly are a master of negotiations and, well, everything ever, you have no flaws except for your incredible and bountiful humbleness!

He takes a deep breath and groans again like the brat he is. He finally goes back to his seat and flops against the desk. Hmm, it tastes of resignation, the best flavor.

"...Fine, I get it. Just...Beh, whatever. You say you can uh, make this thing good, right?"

"Precisely, all I need is for you to let me do all the changes I need to do. Let me do that and your business will be the best in Tamriel." I extend an open hand towards him. Come on, come on, it's your move~ I played all of mine~ Time is running out~ Make a move~

After what feels like an eternity, he stops his moping around and sits properly on his seat, putting on his best serious face.

"...That's...fine I guess, I'll believe you." He stares at my hand for a bit before sighing and grabbing it. We handshake.

The deal has been sealed.

Cue in Thriller's Laugh Track.

After the handshake he looks at me. "What's your name anyway? I have to admit you look...kind of familiar. Mine's Fiiriel Korus." Hm, elven name, maybe he wasn't lying out of his ass earlier. I'm going to work with this asshole for a week, the least I can do is tell him my name.

I point a finger towards me and do a cocky smile. "The name's Francisco Guerrero, Francis for sho-" As if realizing something, he points an accusatory finger at me.

"You're that bastard who keeps making those fraudulent things all over Skyrim! How was it that you're called? Fanciss the Fork?" What the-?!

"It's Francis the Fraud! That's the name! And how do you even know about me?! I haven't done anything here yet!" The same thing happened earlier with the other brothels I visited, is my reputation that fucking bad now?!

"Aah! You really are him! No, the deal's off! Go away!"

"Oh piss off! You already shook my hand! No going back you fuck! You're going to get cursed by the daedra if you do that!"

"The daedra? Oh shit, you told me something about a Sanguine earlier, were you telling the truth?!"

"Yes, definitely, why the hell would I want a fucking brothel of all things otherwise? I'm bound to a daedra against my will, so if you break your promise then you're gonna get mega-cursed, you'll wake up with your legs going in funny directions and, uh, I dunno, an asshole instead of a nose."

"Tch, bastard! You knew about this and didn't tell me!" Of course I'm lying here, but now way I'm letting him go after so much trouble.

"Haha! Now you're as fucked as I am!" I give him a fake laugh that hopefully was convincing. "Now seriously, let's get on with our plans for this place to stop being such a sad sack of misery."

"Ugggh, how are you gonna do that? You're gonna do a magic trick or something?"

"I wish it was that easy. First order of business is changing the appearance of this place." I'm gonna do a Gordon Ramsay as they say.

"What's wrong with-" He stops the stupid question once he sees my glare. "Ugh, alright, you decide, big man. I'll just, I dunno, be a doormat."

I smile pleasantly. "I'm glad we understand each other. Now, we need to rebrand ourselves, no fucking way we're letting this place be known as the fucking shack."

"It's not the shack, it's The House of-"

"Fiiriel, that name is awful, have you heard the others? They're short and they sometimes do a crappy pun. Yours is just a mouthful of sadness that makes puppies cry." He groans again.

"Well, what do YOU have in mind, huh?" What I have in mind? At first nothing, but after seeing this place's state, with the mimes and the sinister atmosphere, well, it reminded me of something from my world, two evil clowns that rap to be precise and that have a weird fixation on faygo, I don't really like them that much to be honest, but one of their songs got stuck in my head and now I can't be happy until I let that song out.

"Fiiriel. From now on, this isn't going to be your brothel or mine. People don't care about that, they need a reason to visit us beyond the nightly services we provide, they need a figure to idolize and that they believe is behind the strings. We're going to create him to be everything this place represents, we're going to become him. He'll tempt everyone who comes here to indulge in their lust. He'll be a figure that charms everyone into coming to his home to never return to their own. We'll create a figure so mythical that everyone will want to see him. Want to know who we're going to turn into?" At this point he's completely hooked on my idea, he nods.

I chuckle, damn you, evil clowns.

"Our new name shall be..." I pause for dramatic effect. "...The Great Milenko." Cause' when the genie says on with the show it's hokus pokus joker.

Sadly, he doesn't look like he's wetting his pants right now. "The Great Milenko...?"

"Yes, he'll be the genie behind the establishment with the same name. This will give a unique identity to this place that completely surpasses those of the competition." Not that they'll be around for long, I'll go and pay them the good old Guerrero Delivery.

"You're crazy, what the fuck's a Great Milenko?"

"Does it matter? We just need these assholes to believe there's something bigger than them going on that wants them to get laid, now shut up and give me one of those masks."

"Huh, why?"

I look at him like if he was an idiot, which to be fair he is. "I'm gonna create our masks of course, The Great Milenko needs people representing him after all." Fiiriel looks up to the ceiling and groans again. What an ungrateful brat.

The night carries on with my plans for The Great Milenko.

Let's make Markarth get down with the clown, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I'm not a juggalo and no, Francis isn't one either, I just got stuck with the idea of a brothel named The Great Milenko and here we are, sue me.
> 
> Sorry for taking so long with the update, I was uh...yeah, I don't have much excuses, I just didn't know where to take the story. Hopefully you liked how this is going. Also this is part 1 of the uh, brothel saga? I'm horrible with names. The brothel plot will either end next chapter or the one after that, this chapter was to set up the stage.
> 
> I hope you liked Fiiriel, he'll continue to tag along Francis until the end of the arc and maybe even after that. All OCs that pop up in this story will be relevant after their respective arcs (Unless I decide to be an asshole and kill them.) so I hope that you didn't hate him with all of your soul.
> 
> Thanks to anyone who takes the time to review my Juggalo Piss-Bottle Tier Story.
> 
> And thanks for reading.
> 
> PS: Updates will probably be even slower because I'll stop writing on the week. Updates from now on will only be at weekends because writing eats all of my time.


	6. The Great Milenko - Part 2

Sup' gamers, welcome to episode #11037 of _Francis does a_ _Fucky_. In today's episode, I clean an entire building from human beings Hotline Miami style.

Hm? What's that? Context? Who the fuck needs that? What are you, a NERD? Ha, nice one Francis! Oh flatterer you~

...God, I'm seriously losing it.

It's the night after I made a deal with the extremely and worryingly young brothel owner Fiiriel. Both of us have been doing the planning work for making this stupid business actually somehow be profitable, and those talks lead to me being here in hopes of giving us a little advantage in the form of massive killings.

At this very moment, besides the fact that people are still having sex (In a downtown condo, or street in the projects.) I'm hiding inside - huge surprise - another alleyway. At this rate I'll be able to qualify for a rat citizenship. The reason why I'm hiding? It's because I'm watching the place I'm about to raid of course, I'm gonna Solid Snake this bitch.

_But why are you doing this in the first place, Mr. Francis?_ Ah, glad you asked Timmy, I was about to get there, now please shut the fuck up, put the dunce cap on and stay in the corner, cunt.

Let's spit straight facts here: No matter what the hell I do with The Shack, it will always be looked down upon by everyone, even if I make it better it will always have that stigma of being for freaks. And can you blame them? Fiiriel tried (badly) to profit with the mime-lover public, which currently doesn't exist at this point in time... At least until Medieval DeviantArt gets created, but hopefully I'll be dead by then. Still, point is that everyone avoids the place like the plague and rightfully so.

My solution to that? Well, apart from using my wonderful skills to butter up the populace with vague promises, I have to somehow force people to give us a chance, which is impossible to do if there are other, better options than mine that actually have set customers.

And thus I present the following plan: Pull out the blicky and blast those other options apart, with great violence.

_Uh, Mr. Francis-_ For fuck's sake Timmy, I told you to shut the fuck up. _I know, but aren't you like, a conman? Your whole thing is negotiating and shit, what the hell._ Timmy, I swear to fucking God that if you don't shut up I'm going to kill your parents with dull Bad Dragon Dildos until their faces can't be recognized anymore and are just a piece of surrealist art... Also, good question,for once you aren't a waste of space, feel proud.

This is the thing, I'm not taking the genocide route just because it's the "easy path", no, there's something even juicier behind this.

Did you know that these brothels have actual honest to god feuds against each other that have been carried through _fucking generations_?

Did you know that all of these businesses are basically in a state of cold war with each other?

And do you know how criminally _easy_ it would be for a third-party to just crash in and leave everything in chaos, flames and piss?

_Very fucking easy_.

So please, dear deity peeping into my thoughts (Fuck you Sheogorath), take a guess as to who is going to be said third-party.

No, it's not the damn Dragonborn you massive cunt. It's me! The dashing rogue that has no problems mugging an old granny if he has to! You know, the hero!

Anyways, at the end all I'm left with is the total destruction route if I want to cause some ruckus and that good ol' political shit to stir up. Eh, it's fine really, I lost my troubles with that sort of dirty work after my first victim and... Well, there's a reason why I'm Francis the Fraud, famous for swindles AND murders. Yes, it's time for you imaginary people to know the other side of The Franz(™); The drop DEAD gorgeous side if you catch my drift.

Agh, whatever, enough mental wank. I'm here to kick ass and commit tax fraud, and I'm all out of frauds.

Before starting the raid that most definitely will end with me laughing like a Shitty Joker OC (It's going to get even worse down the line.), I quickly check my belt for the crap I'm supposed to be carrying for me to effectively speedrun these people's funerals.

Let's see... inside Pinochet I have:

1x Iron Daggers  
4x Poisoned Iron Daggers (Paralysis)  
2x Invisibility Potions  
1x Blowgun  
2x Poisoned Darts (Paralysis)  
7x Bottles of Inflammable Oil  
1x Flint and Stone

Hoo boy, those last two items do promise some of that tasty goodness, huh? Now, time to get stinky.

Breathe in, breathe out... Breathe in, breathe out...

...Alright, let's do this.

Reaching towards my trusty belt AKA Pinochet, I pull out a flask full of my homemade love. With my thumb I pop the cap off and, in one healthy swig, I drink it all in.

Gulp. Jesus Christ, I need to find a way to make this taste better. Despite the not-so-good flavor of the concoction, I'm soon enough turned invisible for the world to (not) see.

I exit the alleyway and make a beeline towards the place I'm going to tear to pieces. It's the _'Dwemer's Delight'_ , which sounds strangely familiar to a certain song from The Sugarhill Gang, but I'm sure that's just my desperate mind trying to hold onto a remnant of sanity. The brothel isn't that big, being just a two story building, which is really good considering that in modern times it would be a twenty meter (Fuck the Imperial system) tall building full of cameras and deadly guns that shoot lead. Ah, one's gotta appreciate the advantages of a society where vaccines don't exist and life expectancy is of thirty years.

God bless medieval health care

Uh, I think I got kind of derailed here, what the fuck was I doing? Ah yes, cleaning up the place, yes. I'm standing right in front of the main entrance to the brothel. There's a mean looking man that most definitely has some form of insecurity considering his wannabe tough-guy look guarding the entrance. Well, let's see how his act helps against a really not healthy dose of paralyzing agent.

I grab one of my Poisoned Iron Daggers and, with no more theatrics, stick the tip onto his chest.

"Wha-!" And poof, he's stone. He comically falls face down towards the stone floor, stuck in a pose of surprise. He's just paralyzed now, so I gotta finish the job, there have been an awful lot of times where the fuckers go back to normal and decide to give me a heart attack. Pulling out one of my non-poisoned daggers, I stick it in his throat and go through the motions. _Slit_ , now I have an incredibly incriminating corpse in the middle of the street, oh dear.

Grabbing the corpse, I start dragging it inside the brothel itself, hoping that there isn't a giant squad of pain awaiting for me in a really hilarious gag that would make people around the world to roll their eyes at

Opening the door of the brothel, I finish moving my still frozen victim inside. Then I turn around.

Good news, there wasn't a squad of pain waiting for me with a giant stick that is meant to go up my rectum in an incredibly painful fashion.

Bad news, it was instead a guard dog ready to call said squad of pain so they can insert things up my figurative asshole but with the added bonus of bestialism.

Shit.

Just as the dog attempts to loudly bark to call the boys up to arms, I throw the Poisoned dagger at it in a practiced motion. The dagger flies and in an instant pierces the dog's throat, paralyzing it instantly, making it join the "Rock Hard Club" and no, it isn't a gay disco, you fuck.

For fuck's sake, there goes one of my daggers. The poison it had on it is useless now that it got mixed with that much blood. This leaves me with just three paralyzing knives and two Darts. I can do this, I can do this.

Repeating the previous process, I finish off the dog with my regular dagger. It's a bit weird how I passed from being one of the dudes that had a lot of dogs in my previous world to _this_ particular brand of stupid, but I guess one just gets used to it. Not that I ever liked the fuckers that much anyway, they vacuum money so fast they make you the Usain Bolt of going bankrupt.

As a side note, I'm still invisible despite just killing two former living beings. This is because it's impossible for something that's in my system to just go **_Poof!_** like in the Fairly OddParents just because I decided to attack someone. It's one of those things that's just there to make the game somehow not as broken, which doesn't apply in Disney's Live Action version, so that's a point in my favor against the Universe I guess. Let's go team! Francis: 01 - Universe: 999999. We can still close the gap!

Anyway, as I already knew from my earlier visit yesterday, this is just a sort of hall or whatever Americans call it. There's a reception desk here and a door that leads to the brothel proper. Good, this means that the receptionist was the one I killed earlier. Now, where do I hide the bodies? Looking around, looking around, looking ar- Oh, that works.

I head towards a barrel that's in the corner of the room. What's in there? I slide the lid open and... I-Is that... Is this fucking barrel just full of gold!? What!? I can feel my conscience speaking.

_Control yourself Francis! You have a mission here!_

B-but, look at all that dosh! This is so fucking much! What if I just grab it and get the-

_No! Sanguine is going to destroy you!_

Who cares!? Just look at this delicious, sweet money. The hard texture of the coin, the... Oh fuck I think I got an erection.

_For fuck's sake! Just finish this shit already so we don't get fucked by supernatural bullshit later! If it makes you feel better then just steal this shit AFTER you finish the mission, cunt._

Hnnng, AAAH THIS IS PAINFUL! Fuck you conscience for making sense!

Repressing all of my natural instincts and feeling as if I'm committing a crime against my own soul, I don't in fact take the barrel and instead proceed with hiding the bodies inside it. Let's hope that my final act this evening doesn't make it impossible to retrieve, because oh boy am I gonna get pissed if it does. Now, come ere' doggy.

A minute later and both bodies are hidden. Cool, onto the brothel itself then. Making sure I have my oil bottles at hand, I slowly open the door and peek inside.

It looks like a normal inn, multiple sets of tables, food and drinks on top of them and, of course, the customers eating the food. There's the typical Generic Fantasy Innkeep music playing from the bard's lute and this is accompanied by jolly chitter chatter and laughs. The only thing that would clue you in that this is a place where an ungodly amount of unwanted babies are made is the fact that a lot of said customers have women on their laps... And that they don't look very happy... AND that they're groping them while eating...Jesus fuck, there even are some doors open where someone's clearly getting lucky. Have some decency you damn sex maniacs!

Man, is The Great Milenko really gonna look like this? Is this what the Universe just decided to drop on my unwilling lap? Goddamn sex-workers and the patented Fat Bastards? Well, this does seem _extremely_ profitable judging by the out-of-nowhere gold barrel, so I can't in good heart complain so much if I get more of that sweet sweet wad. Yes, morals stopped being at the front of my mind long ago.

If anything I can be happy by the fact that this business will be no more tomorrow.

Another fun fact, my invisibility already passed away tragically thirty seconds ago, so I'm not the Predator anymore. Sigh, why the hell do these potions last so little? Game time to Real Time sucks incredible dick. It isn't just 50 seconds Max at least, lasting over three minutes if I'm lucky, but it still sucks. Whatever, that's why I brought two. Getting the second bottle out, I open it and drink it up. Glu glu glu. Aaah! Nothing like some good ol' Guerrero Special in the evenin'!

With me now invisible, I enter the brothel unnoticed by everyone. Now, I think it's time to inform you the fact that I lied earlier, I'm not actually cleaning the entire facility of human life, although if we're being technical here then I wasn't that far. The only people on my hit-list are as follows: Owner and Guards. The customers and workers are better kept alive for recruiting. I'll figure out a way to do that later though, now it's time for action.

I pop the cap off my oil bottle and start dropping it on the floor while circling around the busy room at a fast pace, I have limited invisible time after all. I have to dodge the occasional drunken cunt every once in a while, but aside from that I manage to oil all of the edges of the room. I was fearing for a bit that someone may notice my attempts at arson, but the atmosphere of pure lust and debauchery seems to cloud people's anti-death radars. This whole process takes up six bottles of inflammable deliciousness. Shit, I must have at least a minute or two, gotta hurry up.

Okay now, if my calculations are correct, if I were to set a fire here, every single corner of the room would flare up instantly, leaving only the exit without any sort of blockage. This is fine, it's what I wanted. I still have one bottle left, but that's for the big guy up there. Now, where the fuck are the stairs? I spot with my little eye... There, right besides the drunk cunt licking a clearly uncomfortable woman. Oh boy, it's my moment to be the knight in shining armor!

Approaching the degenerate, I open my last bottle of Flaming Moe's and drop some of it on his shoulder, making sure that it connects with the oil on the floor. Ah, nothing like protecting M' lady from the evil chads... Eh, I vouch for gender equality here. Just for the sake of being an asshole, I do the same with the whore that's on top of him, just for shits and giggles of course. Now both of them will die together in the flames of love~.

Nodding to myself for my incredible move, I start going upstairs, where- Oh dear lord they are actually fucking up here.

Uh, yeah, there's a group of people here that... really got tired of waiting for a room and decided to just go at it in the couches that are in front of this floor's bedrooms. Tch, degenerates, death and flames to you lustful sinners. Hmm, I think I can make an exception for that last bottle.

Me, being the devote keeper of innocence and purity, do honor to that title by pouring a circle of oil around the orgy to make sure that they get cleansed by the holy fire from the heavens above. At least that's what I'm saying in court when I get eventually caught. My consciousness awakens again.

_Is this seriously necessary? The downstairs one was already just gratuitous murder, but this is just stupid!_

Oh come on! Don't look at me like that! It's for the plan! We need some victims to put pressure on the competition! What's the point of a big fire if no one gets killed besides the owner? All of this is a carefully planned move that makes chess grandmasters seethe with envy.

_Those are just excuses and you know it! I'm you for fuck's sake, you can't lie to me!_

Stop being such a crybaby, they were going to die of medieval STDs anyway, I'm just speeding up the process.

_Don't just ignore-_

Ignoring the clear proof that I'm going insane, I decide to move to my second targets of the night besides the wild group besides me, and that is the guards. Ah, thought I forgot about that one, huh? Thankfully for me, whenever I drink an invisibility potion it makes everything I hold invisible too, which means that no one can really notice the oil pouring going. However, before I can go face the big man himself I need to get rid of the security force. There are currently two guys guarding the door to Big Boss's office and two more watching the debauchery at display. They all look like your typical mercenary, AKA leather armor plus iron swords and mean looking faces. Now how the hell do I get rid of them? Simple, I lure them in like a Hitman game.

I slide myself inside one of the rooms that are half-open and watch the scene unfolding. Yup, more fucking, great. Now, where did I leave my blowgun? I rummage through my belt in hopes of finding it, because it really is hard finding shit on yourself when everything else is also invisible. The sounds of lovemaking continue as I hopelessly try to find my blowgun...

Ugh, fuck it, dagger will do. Grabbing the readily available dagger with ROCK HARD AGENT, I sneak behind the couple, both of them moaning and grunting way too loud, mixing with the sounds of sex outside. Jesus fuck this smells bad, let's just get this over with.

Reverse grip on dagger. Behind man going at it. Back begging for stab. Oblige. Now paralyzed man falls on top of the woman. She yelps as she feels his weight. Before she can ask questions, I stab her in the neck with the same dagger. Now the paralysis gang has a new member. Pull out normal dagger to finish the job. _Stab stab._ The paralysis gang has lost two members. Lives snuffed out successfully.

Okay, now I have two dirty corpses, and they're bleeding hard, maybe it has to do with those nice incisions I made in their necks. Whatever, the point is that now I can move on to phase two of 'Killing all the Guards'. As I prepare to start the phase, I feel my invisibility fading away, making me able to see myself...

Oh, so that's where the damn blowgun was. My crotch? Really world? Is that the best joke you could come up with?

Shaking my head, I resume the procedures. Holding a new poisoned dagger (Last one got too dirty.) I crouch right besides the door. Now, time for my incredible speech skills.

I do a girly voice that I'm sure is complete garbage.

"Aah! Guards! Help me! He's trying to, uh, do bad shit to me! If you save me I'll let you go at it instead! Free of charge!"

I have no idea if that last bit actually did something or not, but I do hear some steps coming close. Several steps at that. Fucking hell they're horny. One does get to the door and opens it in a rush, probably awaiting for a lady in poor state of dress to take advantage of.

"What's going-!" I stab his foot with the special dagger. Even if it was in a place like the foot, it still works wonders and in an instant he's kissing the floor. Of course, the other guards try to see what happened with their partner.

"Shalod! What happe-" Opens the door. Falls to the floor. Everybody do the dinosaur. Well, he isn't on the floor exactly, more like he's on top of his beloved buddy. Whoa, they aren't afraid to go at it right in front of everyone! Calm down your passionate love! There are minors here! By this point, the remaining two guards must be cautious, so I doubt that-

"Racdal no! Who is-!" God he's actually stupid. Steps in. Foot defenseless. Big mistake. Falls on top of the others. They're now doing a weird doggystyle threesome. Gay joke ensues. At this point the last one definitely won't enter, so I have to deal with him in other ways. I grab my blowgun and peek outside. Dude's looking alarmed. Spots me. His eyes widen. Shoot a dart right in between his eyebrows. Headshot. Falls to the floor frozen. Confrontation over.

Ah, who's amazing? I am, that's the answer. Now, let's get the worryingly stiff mate from over there inside this room, because it just dawned on me the fact that he's besides the cunts having an orgy. Slowly, I peek over to see how the scene is unfolding.

...They really are just fucking till' the night passes, huh? There's a downed guard right besides them and they are just too horny to care. Whatever, this works for me, so no point in complaining. Stepping out of the room, I move towards the frozen guard, hold his leg and start dragging him towards the room, all of this as sounds of degeneracy still go on. I feel as if I'm going to get sick of this sooner or later. Eventually I drag him towards the room and I finish all of them off with my dagger, yadda yadda, point is that I got rid of the guards and that the main event is ready to start.

Exiting for the last time the room where now six corpses lay, I head towards the big man's door. Clearing my throat, I politely knock three times as the gentleman I am.

_**Knock Knock Knock.** _

I'd like to say that the wait was dramatic or something, but the constant moaning behind me defeats any attempt at that. Ugh, how I wish I was doing anything else but being in a damn brothel. If it wasn't for Sanguine I would be stealing cold bread and awful beer by now!

After some painful moments of pure ecstasy going behind me, I finally get a response.

"You may enter." Pretentious cunt, who do you think you're talking to? A basically homeless guy? Because you'd be right, but still, being nice doesn't hurt, ya know?

I just want to get this night over, so before I open the door I grab my blowgun and charge it with my last dart. Now, let's get it ready and...

I open the door and see a normal medieval looking office. Mr. BIG BOSS is sitting in his throne, with his desk that's full of documents in front. He gazes at me in uninterest for a moment before seemingly recognizing me. His eyes widen. Oh golly gee, it's time for my cool one liner guys! I've been waiting for this!

"Uh, fuck you." Bad Francis!

I then blow on the blowgun and wouldn't you know, it indeed works. The dart flies towards his greasy face and clashes with his- OH CHRIST!

Right before he can scream from the now missing eye, he gets paralyzed... Dear god, that was awful, I didn't even aim there, I swear! Ah, now I feel a little bad, that shit must've hurt a lot... Oh well, one can't do an omelette without breaking six hundred eggs, this is just par for the course.

With the shortest guilt-trip recorded in history over, I close the door behind me and start pouring whatever's left of that oil here. Splishy splashy, now there's lots of fire water! With my setup done, I move onto more important things I came here for, namely boring documents. Great~.

Fiiriel at first didn't want me to go and brutally destroy one of his competitors, but after I told him that I could basically sneak into the main office, he changed tune quickly. He tasked me with finding a lot of paperwork relating to the ownership of the brothel and contracts. For what? I dunno, I'll just let Fiiriel do all the paperwork for me, that's just not my department.

Now let's see, recent... Oh, funny story, did I mention that I don't know how to read?

...I...I think I should've said that before coming here.

I mean, come on! For some reason I can speak this world's language A-Okay, but when it comes to knowing how to write and read I just fall flat on my face. My entire journal is written in a mix of spanish and english, so that works as a sort of encryption technique, but it still sucks major dick not knowing this world's language.

Whatever, I'll just pick a random assortment of folders and that should do. Is there any bag here by any means? I need to carry all of these damn papers somehow. Hm... Oh, there is one! Let's see what's insi...inside...

...My dick is so goddamn hard right now.

_Francis..._

No, leave me alone, I'm taking this and you can't stop me! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH GOLD THERE IS!? DO YOU!? A LOT!

_Just get this over with, I'm tired and sleepy of this bullshit. The fact that people still don't shut up back there doesn't help._

Agreed. Grabbing the most precious bag of anything ever, I start shoveling papers inside. I have absolutely no idea what the hell they are even about, as far as I know I'm just saving horrible Ysmir Fanfiction. Does fanfiction even exist in these times...?

Whatever, point is that my giant bag of gold and papers is now complete! Ah, another mission well done where once again it's proven that invisibility and paralysis are fucking broken. I love system fuck-ups so much. Thank you Todd Howard. But I feel as I'm forgetting something... Oh right, flammable oil needs a flame, silly me.

As I look in my belt for the stone and flint, I catch Mr. Big Boss staring at me from his frozen position.

"If you thought your eye hurt, then I have some bad news for ya'." There it is. With the stone and flint in hand, I head towards the window for easy escape. I give the room a last look...

Okay, enough. With a smirk that isn't creepy at all, I clash the flint with the steel and sparks are instantly created.

_**CLASH!** _

...Fucker, it didn't work, lemme strike it again.

_**CLASH!** _

...Bastard. Just work dammit!

_**CLASH FOR FUCK'S SAKE** _

Third time's the charm and sparks finally come out, and when they fall onto the oil...

Flames instantly erupt and start engulfing everything in it's painful embrace. The paralyzed brothel owner stares at me in fear as the flames start to consume him.

Another victory for logic.

As I hear the sounds of the beginning of screams and whatnot, I leave through the window with my sack of gold and fanfics like a Santa Ripoff. Sadly, I don't have the muscular build of Mr. Santa, so I just painfully fall from the second floor onto an alleyway. Ugh, doesn't matter. If I go through here then-

"Aah! Fire! Run!" "AAAAAAHHH!" "OH GODS, MY SHOULDER!" "We're surrounded! What are we going to do!?" "G-Get off my lap! I'm melting!"

Damn they scream loudly, don't you know there's people sleeping at this hour!? Inconsiderate selfish people, why don't you learn how to be generous and humble like me?

With complete and utmost satisfaction, I walk through the streets of Markarth with the Symphony of Destruction as background music.

Feels good.

* * *

LATER, IN THE SUPER-FRIENDS HEADQUARTERS, THERE'S DRAMA, QUESTIONS TOWARDS MORALITY AND ANGSTY SHIT. OH BOY.

"I... I approved this. I-I heard your plan, considered it and...approved it. I APPROVED THIS." For fuck's sake. This is happening right after my incredible victory at the Dwemer's Delight.

I'm sitting in the same chair I did yesterday with the bag full of shekels at my side while Fiiriel is standing with both of his hands covering his face. Yeah, turns out that getting suddenly splashed with the reality that dozens of people died because of you isn't the best thing for a 15 year old. I completely disagree with that previous statement, but then again, I'm not precisely a paragon of sanity, so my word should be taken with a grain of salt.

I try to steer this conversation in a more important direction.

"Come on, don't be like that. We should be celebrating! We just completed the first step towards the completion of 'The Great Milenko'! The best brothel in all of Skyrim! Let's get the drinks out and toast!"

Instead of responding to the real concerns of the night, he just keeps on with his melodramatic bullshit.

"I... People are dead now because of me... I killed them. I _killed them_ , I-" For fuck's sake, I think it's time for the patented Guerrero Charm to do an act of presence, gotta show some fucking ground here. I clap my hands loud enough for him to cut the edge.

He stares at me, looking for answers. Ask and ye shall receive, I speak in a bored tone.

"Alright, first of all? You didn't kill them, I did. If anything I should be the one having a little scene, but do you see me doing it? No, of course you don't, because it doesn't matter. That's the other thing, why do you give a shit? Boohoo, people I don't know are dead. You didn't know this people and neither they did you. They were gonna die eventually anyway, what's the problem in profiting from their deaths a little? I mean, you weren't gonna meet them otherwise in any other case, so all we can do is move on." This is the worst pep talk in the history of pep talks.

Instead of him getting over it, I just get an expression disbelief directed at me. I should've expected this, if I'm being honest.

"...You're a madman." Oi, why are you talking as if you just got a divine revelation.

"I haven't gotten that diagnosed yet."

"No, you're a- What's wrong with you!?" Damn it, I didn't want to do this, but this bit of 'Duality of Man' has bored me enough to use my secret technique. I have no choice, forgive me sensei! I swore to never use this ever since I shat my pants all those years ago, but the circumstances are dire! I beg you forgive me in hell!

I prepare my strike by starting damage control.

"Okay, yeah, that one sucked, pretend I didn't say that, but I'll give you one better. Behold...!" I grab the giant bag of dough with both of my hands and slam it against the desk.

_**THUNK.** _

"...Gold!"

It's like a magic trick, the moment I throw the dosh on the table, his face changes from bad comic book angst to comical wide eyed surprise. Aha! Behold the results of being an asshole!

"...Th-This entire bag is just...gold?" His voice is filled with disbelief.

"All gold...and some boring documents, but gold mostly."

He stares in amazement at the wonderful sack of moolah. I can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. I'll let him process the information for a bit, I know that not everyone can take Franz de la Franz as well as I can. As he remains in pensive silence, I start whistling a tune that's probably copyrighted, specifically by whoever has the rights to Michael Jackson's corpse.

After an eternity of bad whistling, he finally answers without all the dismay he started with.

"...So, nice job over there, huh?" Ah, once again it's proven that there's nothing that a large sum of money can't buy. Gold is indeed the best thing to ever exist, that's why I love it to death. Also, what a cunt.

"Bastard, I risk my life for you and you treat me like this? The only way I'll ever forgive you is if you get a bottle of liquor on this table right now."

He considers my words for a bit.

"...It still feels wrong to be celebrating over people's deaths though."

"You'll get used to it. Besides, isn't running a brothel evil enough? I'm sure plenty of lives are gonna get ruined thanks to that, so you better start losing those right and wrong things you have in your head."

Fiiriel stares at nothing.

"...I guess, father always celebrated when getting a lot of customers, and if it ruined so many lives..." He shakes his head. "...Okay, we can celebrate, uh, as long as we don't get too used to killing the competition."

I laugh his genuine concerns off.

"Nah, don't worry, we won't have to do anything! They'll just destroy themselves, it's going to be a shit-show." Maybe I should look into the development of popcorn with magic, because I'm gonna need it. Fiiriel puts a hand on his chin.

"Oh, yes, you said something about that... How in oblivion did that go?" I sigh, for fuck's sake you brat, I want to drink! Better just infodump him again so I can move onto the chugging alcohol phase.

I stand up and get into 'Explain Mode'.

"I told you already, all the brothels were in a cold war, which basically means that they are in an eternal state of everyone having a sword against each other's throats and no one being able to do anything without getting their throat pierced by pointy sticks. Thing is, if one of those people that are holding a pointy stick suddenly gets obliterated and no one knows who to blame, then they'll naturally assume that one of them did it, and whoever they think did it now has (supposedly) more power than them, which leads to everyone blaming each other and, sooner rather than later, destroying each other in the process. It's a clean elimination that leaves every side weaker at the end of it and makes it extremely easy to just completely overwhelm the weakened enemy. Beat em' while they're down as they say."

I chuckle. "And all it took was a little oil and a small fire."

That was a nice infodump, I feel like a secondary character! I love them, because they aren't fucking important and just enjoy the good peace and quiet! I glance back at Fiiriel to see if he caught all that. He's just staring at me with a weird face.

"...You honestly terrify me a little." Oh, that.

"Good then, now you'll think twice before whining like a baby, only I can do that and get away with it. I have a crybaby license." I sit back down in my seat and prop my legs up in the table.

"Now, where the fuck's that alcohol."

Fiiriel keeps his judgmental stare for about seven more seconds before sighing tiredly.

"Yes, yes, let me get that bottle... I don't drink though." I just heard the worst thing in this entire night.

"We are going to fix that, RIGHT NOW." Fuck the drinking age, I need to get him used to the beautiful world of cheap alcohol.

"I...Okay." Good cunt. He heads off from the office and goes to wherever the hell he keeps the goods. I have a little alone time now, so I better think about my next steps.

The thing I thought would take the most time is already mostly taken care of, so I have exactly seven days to complete my mission to turn this shitty shed into The Great Milenko. I know that the next steps are mostly redesigning this place, getting more staff for the kitchen, getting more whores for our customers and the whole Great Milenko narrative I'll use as a marketing tool.

So far everything's pretty straightforward and it's shit that I can feasibly solve in a week's time. What REALLY worries me, and I mean, REALLY FUCKING WORRIES ME SHITLESS is this:

We're in Markarth.

Yes, just that.

There are a LOT of things that can go wrong just by doing this whole thing in Markarth. Lemme list them in no particular order so we can get over this:

1.- We have in the first place the jarl, I have no idea what's his standing with brothels or whatever, I'll have to pay him a visit soon to make sure that he won't send the entire POLIZEI to my door.

2.- Second is the damn Silver-Bloods, they have their slimy hands everywhere here, hell, they own the damn jail! What scares me about this is the chances of them being connected to the brothel I just burnt down, because it would mean that they're going to get interested in the brothel that just opened the moment everything got fucky with a timing so great that even TAS speedrunners can't believe it, which would mean that he'd catch the news that Franz Fraudulius arrived in town in the same time frame and... Well, you can take a guess where my ass is going to spend the next years.

It's seriously frightening, I knew what I was risking when doing my hit, but I can't help but fear for my ass. Let's hope that this world doesn't figuratively fuck me for once for taking the shortcut way.

3.- The two daedric quests in town. These ones aren't so scary, mainly because they have no real reason to get interested in a damn brothel, with daedric lords existing somewhat apart from the political landscape. Hopefully this can be avoided completely.

4.- Uh, that's it I think, there's the Forsworn issue, but that doesn't really concern me and, as long as they don't mess with my business, then I don't have to make them go die.

I sigh, this seems like it will be over soon, that's good, I just want to finish this and go back to my wandering ways. Just one more week and this mess should already be over and, hey, I'll have a powerful brothel under my wing and some nice 20000 gold! Ah, yes, this is going to work magnificently.

"H-Hey! Uh, what's the difference between mead and wine?"

...Oh god he's more stupid than I thought. Better educate this brat in the ways of drinks. I stand up while yelling back.

"You uncultured swine! Know what? Forget the toast! This night I'll make sure you learn every single damn thing about drinks, because you're a lost cause if you can't tell mead from fucking wine! Stay where you are, I'm coming!"

As I walk towards the brat, I can't help but have a... feeling, if you want to call it that way. A feeling that something, I don't know what, but _something_ will go...horribly wrong...

Ugh, it must be my imagination, so far everything's been good, no point in bringing down the mood now.

Shaking my head, I keep walking while yelling curses and crappy comebacks.

...

Something will go wrong.

And I get the feeling it will be something out of those three things.

...Shit.


	7. The Great Milenko - Part Three

_**7 Days** _ _until Sanguine Kills the Shit out of Francis_

_Great Milenko Progress:_

_Customers: 0  
Reputation: Non-Existent  
Gross Income: Huh? What's that?  
Chances of Not Dying: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA_

_Overall Thoughts: Oh God I'm so fucked_

* * *

**The Great Milenko - Part Three**

* * *

Yo, what's up my dudes? Are all of you having a nice day? Did you folks clean your underwear? Take a shower? Wash your foreskin?

...No? Oh my, what a dirty boy you are, you naughty naughty cunt. Anyway, as much as I'd like to scold you for your dirty behavior, we have more important stuff going on, so I'll give you my lecture on penile cleanliness later. Why? Because it's story time, bitches.

Gather around, gather around folks, Papa Francis is about to tell all of ya' little brats a story, and you better shut the fuck up and pay attention to it, because otherwise you're gonna be pretty lost. Especially you, Timmy, you stupid fuck, I swear to god that if you interrupt my unnecessary unfunny monologue one more time I'm taking off my shoes and force-feeding them to you through your fucking nostrils. You inbred freak.

Alright, first things first, I have a question for ya'.

What's the first thing that immediately comes to mind when you think about, I dunno, Marketing? Weird ass question, I know, but just roll with it for a second.

The first thing that comes to mind is adverts, maybe it takes the form of some ugly pamphlets an underpaid teenager hands you on the streets, maybe a TV spot so harmless and inoffensive it might as well be made out of oatmeal, and sometimes, whenever a particularly rich asshole wants to shove his awful product up your urethra, you see one of those gargantuan signs perched on top of a post, taking hundreds of eyes off the road and causing god-knows-how many car crashes.

But hey, you just had to know that they were putting out a new Jumanji movie, so who cares?

Anyway, as you may know as a fellow resident of planet Earth (at least assuming I'm not just talking to myself), adverts like that are plain and simple, annoying as all hell, you just want to tear the little shit to pieces and never think about it ever again for the rest of your miserable mortal life.

However, you still do unwillingly gain the knowledge that the bastards are promoting that new awful Jumanji movie, so you know, maybe you could go check it out later or something, in the ironic sense of course, and look! There in that corner is that crappy pizza place that was on that pamphlet you still have in your bag, maybe you could use one of those handy discounts they had and get yourself some grub, and look once again! There is that-

You get the point.

_But Mr. Francis..._

Timmy, you damn-

_Why are you talking about this? A-Are you high again? AH! Don't take out the belt!_

Listen here, _Timmy_ , I'm getting somewhere with this, so help me god, because if you dare open your filthy little imaginary mouth one more time I'm going to add a whole new entry to the Geneva conventions.

Still, what I'm talking about here is that Marketing, whether you like it or not, works, that's why it's used in the first place. So why the hell am I talking about this?

It's because the concept of Marketing doesn't exactly apply for brothels.

Granted, you may get the occasional shady pamphlet and perhaps a nice poster here and there, but those kinds of places are always more catered towards the shadows, to being low-key and not disturbing the nice men with swords that patrol the entire city so they can be left alone with their probably illegal dealings.

Enter Francisco Guerrero, the Great and Glorious.

Pamphlets? Signs? Discretion? Shit normal people do? PFFT! Get that filth out of my face! You think people fall for that!? You think that people will come to my absolutely horrid brothel if I ask them to pretty please give us a chance!?

No! They won't come to my shitty business if I do that! They'll instead organize the first ever crucifixion in the history of Tamriel just to perch my pathetic ass on a cross like one does to a really ugly sweater! No, if I want people to lower their standards enough to basically commit moral suicide, I have to put on a little show for them, give them a little treat so they follow me into the black van that says "FREE CANDY" on the outside.

I can't win the war against the other businesses with sheer quality or customer trust, that requires time, precious time I don't have. So instead, I have decided to take a note or two out of my modern day society for ways to manipulate people into thinking I'm right and that they are mere sheep who are looking for a shepherd (AKA, Me).

In other words, I'm going to create a cult.

...A-Are my parents proud of me? Or have they already started using my bedroom as a rather large dumpster in revenge? It's probably just some public toilet by now...

Anyway, while the last thing I wanted to do in my whole lifetime was to create a cult to artificially raise the popularity of a brothel of all things, I just have to do it, because:

1.- It's my fucking job  
2.- I die otherwise.

Someone doesn't seem to get the message though,

"Francis, I'll be honest and say that after you made that stupidly long speech about Narcoting, I was sort of convinced in your plan. I thought: Hey, maybe this maniac does know what he's talking about. He has a bit of a few personality flaws here and there, but he knows his trade, maybe he really can help me bring my father's business into its glory days again."

Fiiriel then points at the concept of cringe plastered on a mask, still looking flabbergasted at its existence,

"But you know what? I take that back, you're absolutely mental and I wish I never met you." What an ungrateful brat.

Both of us are currently hiding inside a dark alleyway (because of course) doing the prep-work for my first real publicity stunt in Markarth. It's a shame it involves wearing clothing more befitting of an edgy, wince-worthy OC sucking way too much off the Joker's tit that you'd find in the deepest hell of google images, right alongside deepfakes of Angelina Jolie in compromising situations and videos of brazilian beheadings.

Either way, let's just hope that the Insane Clown Posse doesn't mind me using their album cover for these crappy masks I made, because otherwise a fun little cease and desist letter will be delivered to my doorstep.

I glare at him, my own cringy mask being held in my hands as if it was a baby, "That's rather mean, don't you think? I put my heart and soul into this."

"Is that why it looks so hideous?" Ouch, low blow.

"Oi, I know you're laughing now, but you weren't the asshole who spent an entire night painting the damn things. You know how horrible are those brushes!? Even an octogenarian's stiffy is sturdier."

He frowns in confusion, "How would you know how sturdy is an octogenarian's-"

I put a hand on his shoulder and give him a dramatic look worthy of an Oscar, "Don't ask questions you'll regret hearing the answer to."

His frown doesn't leave his face, "Should I be frightened by the fact that I can't tell if you're joking or not?"

"You should be more frightened of your ass if you don't put that mask on, now." Following this, I start putting on my own, making sure the straps are all tight and ready. Fiiriel, meanwhile, is still complaining.

"B-But it looks so stupid! Do I really have to follow you out there!? We're going to make fools out of ourselves!" Let me… Ah, there we go, clown mask that violently violates several copyright laws all revved up and ready to go.

I look at him through the little eyeholes of the mask, "Hey, come on, it doesn't look that bad, does it?"

If his expression could be somehow more hopeless it would create a vortex of depression,

"...I regret everything."

I sigh wistfully, "News flash, we all do, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a big fat liar and also probably smells. Now shut up, stop being a big baby, and put the silly clown mask on."

Fiiriel gives me a last defying glare before sighing in resignation,

"I despise you."

"You wouldn't be the first." As he reluctantly puts on his mask, I take a quick look over my shoulder towards the marketplace, where dozens of people are chatting, buying ingredients and overall having a jolly good time.

Time to ruin that.

Deciding that enough lollygagging is enough, I pick up the soapbox I brought and a cane I borrowed (read: stole) from Fiiriel, whom I take the time to give a last check-up, as he just finished putting on his own copyright defying mask. I can't see his face, but I can tell he's anything but comfortable.

I judge him for a few moments before deciding that yes, he's ready to help me start marketing my new sex-cult, with blackjack and hookers,

"It's showtime, Firielino, we have people to scam."

I'm sure there's nothing nice plastered on the face behind the mask,

"...Firielino, seriously?"

I promptly turn around and start heading towards the marketplace with a certain speed to my feet, walking with my back straight and my head held up high, already starting to don the persona of what is possibly the worst idea since the avocado latte. I hear Fiiriel's steps following me.

Whoop whoop, motherfuckers.

* * *

I glare holes at the vegetables in front of me, taunting me with their many colors and flavors, each of them offering a different possibility for today's meal. Maybe I should go with the tomatoes and their sweet flavor, or maybe the cabbages and their blessed versatility when cooking? Hnng...

Tsk, damn you Fenrald and your miserable gold, I can't buy everything I need like this!

Alright, let's consider the drawbacks of choosing between tomatoes and cabbages, firstly, what do I gain if-

A loud, boisterous laughter interrupts my thoughts. What?

I turn around at the commotion and see the most ridiculous man I've ever seen atop of a box, standing in the middle of the square holding what I assume is a wooden cane. He's wearing a black robe with an unreasonable amount of straps on, a turban filled with red stars covering his head, and the most eye-catching thing of all, a, uhm, mask? It is a mask, but the design is bizarre if anything.

It's a white mask of a laughing face, sporting bright red lips, mustache and beard, the latter being weirdly rounded for some reason. One of its eyes is open with a menacing look while the other has a cross over it.

Who even decided that was a good design?

Just as I think that, I notice a second person standing behind the man with his arms crossed. He's wearing the same pointless outfit, with the only difference being that his turban and mask have replaced every red spot with bright green ones. What in the love of Nirn is their deal?

The ridiculous man stops laughing and opens his arms, assaulting everybody present with a cheery, loud voice.

"Come here, come all, people of Markarth! I hope you're enjoying this shining, lovely afternoon as much as I am, for His excellence has arrived to this city, and I'm here to spread the good word! The Great Milenko is here, and He has decided to grant Markarth His mirthful blessing!"

Before I can make the questions myself, my neighbor Gondfir, asks one of his own, raising his voice so everyone can hear him.

"What is you pair of idiot's problem!? Can't you see we're busy here!? Go away!"

Quickly after him, another voice makes itself known.

"Yeah, and what's with your ugly mask!?"

Another one follows, "And what the hell is a Great Milkendo!?"

The masked man with the cane just chuckles in response, shaking his head as if those questions were none of his concern. He talks again, using the same cheerful voice,

"Oh, so many questions! Do not fret, do not worry, for I am here to answer each and every one of them! The Great Milenko welcomes both the curious and hardheaded alike! But first, allow me to introduce myself," Then, with a spin of his cane, he does a flourish bow.

"My name is _El Flaco_ and my fellow believer over there goes by _El Indio_ **[1]** ," the one behind him bows, albeit in a rather awkward manner. The maniac keeps talking, "and both of us are missionaries. Missionaries with one and one mission alone, to spread the word of The Great Milenko, Lord of Mirth and Fulfillment throughout all of Tamriel, nay, all of Nirn!"

...These men are completely delusional.

He proceeds with his rant, uncaring of the general feeling of annoyance permeating the air,

"And you may wonder, just what the fuck are these assholes' talking about? Great Milenko, Lord of Mirth and Fulfillment?! Who's that fucker!? What the fuck do these absolute shitstains want us to buy now, huh!?" I feel my eyes widen in surprise at the sudden change in tone, and judging by some of the badly hidden gasps from others, I wasn't the only one. He doesn't pay this any mind, returning to his more jovial tone, "Well, ladies and gentleman, we will be straight with you, because I'm sure that if we do otherwise, you'll want to put our heads on a pike, ha!"

No one laughs with him.

The maniac - Or El Flaco, I guess - points his cane one by one at the audience, his laughing visage being every bit unsettling as it is ridiculous, "The Great Milenko is the master of all things fulfillment and mirth, an entity every bit as mortal like any of us, yet still far above thanks to the knowledge he gained after he spent thirty long uninterrupted years meditating inside his humble abode."

That's... nonsense,

El Flaco points a finger at the skeptic faces,

"Ah, but what knowledge was the one he gained? What possible secret of the world was it that he gained so he could be so impossibly enlightened? That's rather simple of course! He gained the answer to life!"

There are murmurs amongst the people, many of which make fun of the fool with an equally foolish mask. He proceeds with his beggar's tale with no signs of acknowledging the whispering,

"The answer to life, a rather heavy subject, isn't it? Well, isn't it jolly then, that the answer, in stark contrast to what one would imagine, is so simple and mirthful!" He extends an arm to the audience, reaching out,

"The answer to life is fulfillment! Pure, joyful fulfillment!" As many mouths open to ask the idiot " _What the hell is your point?"_ , he continues to talk uninterrupted,

"But do not look into details, where is the joy in that? Instead, let's talk about the present! Specifically, why we are here," He clears his throat, "We are not here to sell you anything per se, rather, we're here to announce our services, which are helpfully provided by The Great Milenko! And what services, you ask? Ha! Well..."

Once he says this, he opens his arms and loudly yells, waking up the entirety of the market district,

"We're opening a brothel!"

...

...Oh dear.

The outrage begins as soon as he shuts up,

"Are you kidding!? You waste our time to tell us about another bloody brothel!?

"We're tired of your kind! You pollute our streets with whores and lowlifes, get the fuck out of our city!"

"What the hell is a Great Mole-Innuendo?!" How did he even-?

More and more annoyed yells start to pile up, filling the entire market with the cries of tired citizens. Everyone is throwing their grievances against the pair of imbeciles standing in the middle of the square. Just what the hell were they expecting? Apparently exactly that, as El Flaco is still stuck in a pose, looking none the wiser to the show around him, although his companion - El Indio, was it? - does look a tad uncomfortable with it.

Bah, what a waste of time.

Already tired of the show, I turn around and go back towards the vegetables. I won't let some bad swindlers stop me from making lunch after all. Now, back to the real conundrum, tomatoes or lettuce? Hm, perhaps-

Two loud claps from El Flaco silences the jeering crowd. About time, the noise was distracting me, it didn't let me decide between the fucking tomatoes and lettu-

The irritating man interrupts my thoughts with his annoying voice, again. Sighing in resignation, I turn back towards the gathering of misery.

"Now, now, don't behave like that, you haven't heard us yet! Don't go putting us in the same group as those other businesses of questionable quality. Nay, we're more than just a brothel, we're..." He wiggles his fingers around, as if they were doing a magic trick, "-an experience."

I can already hear my neighbor prepare for another rebuttal before El Flaco starts his tirade again, "Now! Please, dear members of the audience, let's play a little game, shall we? Don't worry, it's rather easy! I make a question, and one of you answers, and if you get it correct, you win a prize! Simple, right?"

Before anyone can complain or give him a kick in the crotch, he loudly knocks the floor with his cane, "First question! Who were the ones who built Markarth?"

...Huh? Why is he even...?

Although I know the answer to his question, as do many of my fellow citizens here because we're not five years old, I stay in silence, merely observing this crime against common sense continue, because you'd have to be blind to not see the blatant ploy at hand. I do not know what he is planning, but I'm not willing to walk into his hands for it.

It seems however, that someone woke up blind today.

"I-It was built by the dwarves!" I glare to my right, where my neighbor Thalida—a young woman barely in her twenties—is raising her hand, hopping in place so she can be noticed by the maniac.

Idiot.

Said maniac points at her with his cane and does his grating laugh, "You're correct, darling! Markarth was indeed built by the dwarves!" Thalida looks absolutely elated, "You correctly answered my question, and so, you win a prize!" He turns his head towards his partner, whom I forgot was even there, "Indio! Give the lovely lass over there her well-deserved prize!"

After some grumbling, El Indio heads towards Thalida with less than confident steps, holding a small black card in his hand. Huh? What is that?

El Indio, now in front of Thalida, bows and presents her with the card in a rather showy manner. She hesitantly takes it and eyes the small object curiously,

"Um... What is this?"

Predictably, El Flaco laughs, with El Indio quickly making his way behind him,

"That, my dear, is an exclusive card that marks you as a very important guest to our establishment! It grants you special access to all of our features for important people only! From now on, The Great Milenko welcomes you with open arms!"

After some seconds processing the information, she seems to remember what kind of establishment they were exactly promoting in the first place, as her face quickly turns red and starts stammering,

"W-Wait! No! I d-don't want to go to your b-brothel! I just wanted an easy pri-!"

El Flaco chuckles, shaking his head,

"Relax, relax! There's no need to worry here, you don't have to go to our place if you don't want to! Where's the fun in that?" He leans forward, pointing at the card in her hands, "However, if you ever change your mind about us, do bear in mind that you will be treated with the most luxurious of meals, the most comfortable bed, and of course, the most gorgeous men and women to fill it! All for _you_ to enjoy at your leisure!"

Thalida, still looking startled by the revelation, doesn't get any time to reply to his unnecessarily loud proclamation as he once again points his cane at the audience,

"Now! Who else is willing to participate?"

Checking, I can see that the majority of people, like me, still look skeptical and annoyed at this whole thing, _however_ , there is something clearly different now.

Some are showing keen interest in the benefits of that card he just gave away for practically nothing, both men and women alike having a dangerous glint in their eyes.

El Flaco continues, pretending not to notice the sudden change in atmosphere, "Time for question number two!" Dozens tense up, getting ready to answer first. "What color are my shoes?"

...This has got to be a joke.

In an instant, a scraggly young man shouts the answer, "Red! Your shoes are red!"

El Flaco points a finger at him and loudly yells in delight, " _Yes!_ A thousand times yes, because you're _absolutely fucking right!_ " He claps two times, "Indio! Do the honors!"

El Indio once again heads forward with another black card in his hands. He presents it to the young man who answered.

The winner grabs it quickly, and after some moments spent examining it—moments in which El Flaco stares closely at him—he raises his head towards the maniac,

"Y-You weren't lying, were you? I just give you this and-"

"You get a full night of joy and companionship! As long as you present me this lovely card, you'll have full access to the Great Milenko's services!" He leans forward, punctuating every word, " _Free. Of. Charge._ "

The young man looks like if he just discovered a mountain of glistening gold, with a stupid smile plastered all over his face. El Indio returns to El Flaco's side.

Without leaving any more room for questions, El Flaco once more yells to the crowd, his arms open and inviting,

"Now who's ready for question number three!?"

When he gets dozens of " _Aye!"_ in response, he chuckles.

That's it, if I don't stop this then it will go on forever, and I'd really prefer it if my neighbors don't get swindled by this barely functional fraud. It's embarrassing no one's tried to stop this by now.

Taking a deep breath, I shout at the top of my lungs,

" _Can all of you for the love of Mara stop!?_ " They all fall in silence, "This whole thing is so obviously shady it's not even funny! A free night at some unknown brothel!? Are all of you idiots or what!? Can't you see the clear trap this complete _bastard_ is luring you into!?"

All of the crowd's gazes fall onto me, with expressions ranging from gratefulness from the folks with sounder minds to the annoyed glares from the morons who were going to get tricked by this ridiculous man.

The most significant gaze however, comes from both of the masked men in front of the crowd, both of their ridiculous masks laughing at me while glaring. I glare back,

El Flaco tilts his head to the side, crossing his arms and tapping his foot,

"Huh? Do you have a problem with how I wish to spread the word of my Lord?"

I answer without missing a beat,

"Yes, I have many problems with your _Lord_ , if those badly made lies can even be called that."

"Oh! So, you think we're lying for whatever reason?"

I take a step forward, people in front making space for me "I do not _think_ you are lying; I _know_ you are."

El Flaco snorts derisively, "Do not bother, we're telling the truth! And besides, who are you to say that we cannot invite whoever we want to our newly opened business?"

I cross my arms, "Well, I can-"

"Now, members of the audience! Let's continue with question number three!"

" _Do not ignore me!"_

El Flaco stays in place for a moment before sighing, his whole form slumping. This bastard-

"Alright, _lady_ , although calling you that is making a stretch, go on and tell me why I shouldn't invite these wonderful people to this wonderful place. Come on, I don't have all day."

I ignore his offensive words and hold my hand up, raising a finger for every point I make,

"Well, _first_ , you just opened and you're giving entire nights away? How does that even work? _Second_ , you can't expect people to just- "

El Flaco loudly yawns, effectively interrupting me.

"Mm? Oh sorry, I just started to feel really sleepy all of a sudden, silly me. Let me tell you however, you'd be a blessing for the sleep impaired, just three words and they'd be as good as dead!"

To my absolute horror, there are a few chuckles coming from the crowd after his remark. _For fuck's-_

I try to go on without minding them,

" _S-Second_ , you can't expect people to just want some useless little card that is probably worth nothing. _Third- "_

Some unnaturally loud whispers interrupt my complaints, coming of course from El Flaco, who was leaning towards his partner. The both of them proceed to laugh out loud.

Obviously pissed, I snarl at them, " _What are you both talking about!?"_

El Flaco talks in between chuckles,

"S-Sorry, we were just- _Pfft!_ " This damn- "A-Ahem! It doesn't matter, I was just telling him a very funny joke I just remembered, nothing more. Proceed, I promise I'm taking this with as much seriousness as you are."

…Bastard.

Clearing my throat, I proceed with my take-down,

" _Third_ , how do you expect us to trust you while you wear masks? Do you think people here are stupid enough to-?"

I'm once again silenced, this time by two loud claps. _Oh, what now!?_

El Flaco has his fist raised,

"Folks in the audience! I have a question for you all, what do you want?! To win a free night at our lovely establishment by answering some questions and having a good time? Or to hear this old hag run off her mouth until no tomorrow while complaining about everything!? Good time, or hag!?"

Before I can retort to them that I'm _barely fucking thirty_ , I hear some morons actually say " _Good times!"_ and " _Get the hag out of here!"_. These damn fools!

Finally, someone else also decided that this show had gone long enough. Specifically, Gundfir, my neighbor who opposed them at the start,

"Oh, come on! Stop it you twit! You've done nothing but throw aside the questions from her! You haven't answered a single thing! Both of you are just-!" El Flaco, interrupts him with a groan,

"And look who just arrived! It's the knight in shining armor, here to save the princess from danger because _clearly,_ she can't do it on her own! And for what reason does he do this? Because he wants to bed her later, that's why!" This massive bast-

Gundfir looks absolutely enraged, "How dare you accuse me of-!?"

El Flaco ignores him and directs his words to the audience, all wearing mixed faces at this turn of events,

"Audience! Isn't it pathetic how he's trying to bed the lady by trying to put us down? And isn't it demeaning, how he thinks that a _woman_ can't do anything on her own? Shameful, I say!" He then starts _chanting_ , "Shameful! Shameful!"

His sidekick, of course, supports him, speaking for the first time since the start of the show,

"Shameful! Shameful!"

While the majority doesn't follow their chant, the dozens of idiots who wanted to get that card _actually follow it_ , filling the market with the cries of the mentally deficient,

"Shameful!"

"Shameful!"

"Shameful!"

T-These damn idiots!

I look around for any support, but either everyone who could've helped me is already long gone from this crappy display or they're leaving right this moment, fed up with the show.

Gundfir's face is red like a tomato, "Y-You! I'm going to-!"

El Flaco doesn't miss a beat,

"Going to what? Get even angrier because you can't argue with my points? Aw, come on now, it's okay to not be right sometimes! Look, I'll put it easier for you, if you don't want to be with us here, just don't be! No one's forcing you to be here, so… shoo," He waves him away,

"I'm- I will-!" He gets Immediately interrupted, not by El Flaco, but by some of the morons in the crowd, eating the regurgitated garbage he's feeding them,

"Go away already! We want to play the game!"

"Yeah! We're wasting time here thanks to you! Just go away!"

"Piss off, you wet-blanket!"

El Flaco, controlling the crowd with ease, starts chanting alongside his partner, fanning the flames of idiocy,

"Go away! Go away!"

And the idiots, of course, follow suit,

"Go away!"

"Go away!"

"Go away!"

…I-I'm left speechless at this display of stupidity. Gundfir is not much better, him being as furious as a human can be and ready to charge at the maniac in front of him.

El Flaco laughs derisively, enjoying the disaster he just created,

"Well! You heard them, the public spoke! Away you go!"

Gundfir starts to slowly head towards El Flaco, fists at his side shaking in fury,

" _Shut up!_ I'm going to ki-!"

" _In the name of the Jarl, what is going on here!?"_

Everyone, myself included, snaps their head towards the new voice, seeing the colors of a Markarth guard. _About damn time!_

Despite the unexpected intervention, El Flaco takes this in stride, answering as if he didn't just organize an angry mob by promising free whores,

"Nothing! I was just playing a game with these lovely folks! Sadly, someone wanted to interrupt it, so we were trying to resolve that. Not like it matters now, because time's up!" He hops down from the soapbox, finally putting an end to this madness, "I wanted to give away more cards, but thanks to _someone_ , I just couldn't."

On cue, the morons turn their heads towards me, glaring with anger for preventing them of getting laid for free. Tsk, I probably saved your lives you ungrateful bastards.

El Flaco is not done however,

"Still, I do not want to go without giving you wonderful folks another card! So, this one is a gift!" He snaps his fingers, making El Indio give him another black card, "This one is for whoever catches it first! Here!" And he throws it to what's remaining of the crowd, comprised entirely of the idiots,

Like a pack of starved wolves, the morons try to take the prey for themselves, shoving each other apart to get the worthless piece of paper. Bah, why did I even bother.

El Flaco goes towards the guard with El Indio trailing behind, the guard having watched this embarrassing mess with an eyebrow raised,

"Anyhow! Thank you very much, mister guard! Your service is greatly appreciated!"

He frowns at the masked arseholes, "What's with the masks? You do know you can't just wander around here wearing that, right?"

El Flaco waves him away, acting as if they were old friends, "It's for religious reasons, sorry if it's a bother. We'll go away right now!"

Gundfir, finally regaining his calm, heads towards the guard, face still furious. I have half-a-mind to follow but I decide otherwise, opting instead to watch from afar, out of the guard's scrutiny.

"Guard! Arrest them! They're frauds!"

The guard stares at El Flaco and El Indio, eyebrow still raised in inquiry, "Well?"

El Flaco answers for both of them, El Indio just standing there not knowing what to do with his hands,

"Lies and slander! We have not done anything involving a single coin of either gold, silver or copper! All we did was hand out invites for our place, sir, that's all!"

"Their place is a _brothel!_ "

"And what is a brothel, Gundfir?" How did he know his-? "How can you, of all people, tell _me_ , tell _him_ of the definition of a brothel? If we think about it, a brothel can be many things that- "

" _Silence!"_

Both of them fall silent, as if they were little kids being reprimanded by their father. El Indio keeps doing nothing, visibly bored.

The guard looks at Gundfir,

"Citizen, we will take your words in consideration, however, we can't just arrest them without any justifiable cause- "

" _They disrupted public order!_ "

El Flaco loudly gasps, "It was a religious speech you insensitive bastard!"

Both of them look at El Flaco. The guard frowns in bewilderment,

"What religion is it that you two preach, exactly?"

"Milenkoism, clearly."

The guard doesn't look amused, "Never heard of it."

"It's pretty new, very _avant-garde_ if you catch my drift."

"What even-?" The guard shakes his head, "No, it doesn't matter, I'll deal with that later." He looks towards Gundfir, "Citizen, thank you for your cooperation, please go along your way."

Gundfir doesn't look very happy, but nods, walking away to the market stalls and finally finishing his involvement in whatever this was. As for El Flaco and El Indio, the guard stares at them for a few moments before leaning in and… whispering something in their ears?

Obviously, I don't manage to hear what is said, but I do see that both of their bodies noticeably tense up after his words. Whatever it was, it wasn't pretty it seems.

After saying whatever he said, the guard goes off somewhere, probably continuing his abruptly cut rounds through the city.

For their part, they are both frozen in place, probably processing whatever that guard said to them. Hopefully it was a fine of thirty thousand gold or something similar.

El Flaco then turns his masked head until he stares at… Oh drat, he's staring at me.

He starts to walk up to my position with a spring in his step, the bastard. Once he's near enough he examines me from head to toe, visibly moving his head up and down. _I'm going to kill hi-_

"You do look very stressed, don't you? Very _unfulfilled_." He hands me… one of his black cards.

Glaring at him, I warily take it, hoping that he finally pisses off. El Flaco nods in satisfaction and turns around,

"We will be waiting for you, _Annessa_." How did he-!?

Before I can ask any questions, he's already back and far away with his partner, and after exchanging some words, they mix themselves with the going and coming crowd of Markarth.

…Fucking hell, that was weird.

I look at the card on my hands, the one that caused all of this afternoon's problems and the reason why people started turning against each other.

Not very impressed, honestly.

The front of the card is rather bare, simply stating the name of the local with white letters against the black surface, written by hand:

**The Great Milenko**

> **Card of Entrance, Exclusive Services**

I check the back of the card, where curiously enough, there's some sort of quote plastered:

" **Never Going to Give You Up,  
Never Going to Let You Down,  
Never Going to Go Around and Desert You  
Never Going to Make you Cry,  
Never Going to Say Goodbye,  
Never Going to Tell a Lie,  
And Hurt You"**

**-The Great Milenko's Promise to Our Patrons**

After that, there's the directions to the brothel itself, which is followed by some weird words in a foreign language I don't think I've ever seen.

Wait a second, did he ever tell the crowd of imbeciles where his business was located in the first place?

I shake my head. It does not matter, this whole thing was a bloody mess and I have better things to do. I've wasted enough of my time as it is and I don't want to keep my husband waiting,

I turn around and head towards the vegetable stalls, where the ever-existing question of lettuce or tomatoes is going to take place again,

…Absentmindedly, I stash the card in my dress' pocket.

* * *

"…"

"…"

We're silently resting inside an alleyway, both of us taking deep breaths with our eyes closed. Our masks are already off, tossed into a bag we brought beforehand resting in the ground.

I open my eyes to find Fiiriel's already open, staring at me with seriousness.

He opens his mouth, "That was…" He closes it again, unable to find the words.

I helpfully move my hand, "Go on…"

Fiiriel opens his mouth again before closing it. After a few moments, he finally settles for something that perfectly encapsulates what just happened,

"…We… Ha ha! _We fucking did it!_ _Fuck yes!"_ He laughs like a maniac. I answer with the same enthusiasm,

" _Fuck yes in-fucking-deed! Woooo!"_

We both start to cheer like god-damn animals,

"HAHA! FUCK YES! FUCK YES!" He pumps his fist repeatedly.

"FUCK YES! FUCK YES!" I do the same.

The weight of the con seems to finally begin to unravel from Fiiriel's shoulder as he starts to excitedly talk as if he just snorted thirty kilos of coffee,

"We- We fucking did it! We put on those masks forsaken by the gods and any sense or reason and we _actually did it!_ "

I punch him in the shoulder, laughing like an idiot, "Of course we did you fucker! We grabbed them by the balls and never let them go! Their balls must be god damn purple by now!"

Fiiriel continues to excitedly talk, "A-And that lady! You said that she was going to be a confrontational arse and she actually was! She actually went and confronted us like you wanted!"

I wave him off, " _Pffft!_ Of course she did, and that geezer too! You know how much gold I had to give those beggars to give me all the juicy info about previous con attempts here!? _Too much! Too damn much!_ "

"Oh, shut up! Most of it you took it from my funds! And either way, who cares! _We fucking did it!_ "

" _Yes, we did! Yes, we fucking did!"_

The festival of animal mating sounds begins anew.

Fiiriel grabs his head with both of his hands and looks up to the sky, "Oh gods, I can't believe it! I actually went up there and did an actual fraud!"

I roll me eyes in good nature, "Don't go getting all your shit get to your head now, I did all the heavy-lifting you bastard."

He shrugs, uncaring, "Who cares? The point is that I _actually did this!_ Oh gods, this was incredible!"

I don't say anything back because, come on, that was an actually amazing con, I'm too just getting off what's essentially the afterglow of finishing this crap, give me a break; I can't be snark-lord 24/7

Fiiriel, now calming down a bit, shakes his head and chuckles, "Seriously though, I'm still amazed that talking against her like you were a toddler fighting over a toy actually worked to get people on your side, I half-expected them to just put our heads on a pitchfork at that point."

I let out a deep sigh, "Yeah, it's rather sad how the dumbasses get charmed by being loud and idiotic instead of, you know, doing proper arguments and that shite smart people do. As long as you sound like you know your shit, they believe it no matter how dumb it is."

Fiiriel takes a deep breath and lets it out, "Haah… Yeah, that is rather depressing actually," He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them with a frown, "Still though, a lot of people walked away from our show and only about fifteen remained to the end. Not the huge success we were expecting."

I shrug, "That's the better result honestly, it's impossible for a brothel of all things to gain that much popularity in one go, and on the other side, this way we've just filtered out the people who are either too smart or simply put, _not idiots,_ from the ones we want to target, those being… Well, idiots."

"It's rather cynical to just view all those people as some sort of statistic."

"Again, you better get used to this, we have to target our clientele and expand it, and believe me, there are a lot of idiots to prey on."

Fiiriel chuckles and sits on the ground, still recovering from the euphoria of victory,

"Still, now what? We gave away four cards from the fifty I made and only those things had the brothel's location. What's the point of a following if none except four know where to find us?"

I do the _tsk, tsk, tsk_ Miles Edgeworth style, which is then followed by me opening my arms for the fiftieth time in the day for dramatic effect,

"This is where the real game starts, Firielino- "

"Don't call me that."

"Because I'm going to do an ancient technique that's so effective it's not even funny."

He raises an eyebrow, "Which is?"

"You know how people basically started to fight over these worthless cards whose value is virtually zero?"

"Well, yes, it was quite amusing actually."

"I agree, and that's what I'm aiming for, Filipino-

"Can you stop doing that?"

"I'm aiming for making something as useless as this," I hold up one of the cards I had pocketed, "As valuable as barrels of gold. And you know which people are the ones who want to have barrels of gold?"

He stares unamused at me, already used to my stupid theatrics that go nowhere. I take it as a sign to go on,

"Rich people. Of the weirdo variety, to be precise. Want to know ho-?" Fiiriel groans, interrupting me,

"Alright, I get it, deep plans, very smart, huge cock. Can we please talk about something else? I know I was the one who asked in the first place, but it's a drag when you start monologuing."

…I don't actually monologue _that_ much, do I?

I shake my head, "Yeah, whatever, I'm more worried about something else, actually," Fiiriel nods, already knowing what I'm talking about.

"The guard, right?"

"…Yeah, the guard." I swear to god those fuckers just live to make my life miserable.

Remember that whole "OMG WHAT NEXT?" from last time? You know, with foreshadowing so heavy that with just a few more pounds it would legally count as a nuclear warhead ready to detonate in your nearest North Korea?

Welp, the obvious foreshadowing was indeed obvious.

Guess who just landed himself a date with the Silver-Bloods! Yes, me! _Kyaaa! Silver-Blood-sama!_

I groan at the shitty story-telling,

"Fucking Silver-Bloods. I swear, they must have the damn toilets under control as well, next time I go take a shit a hand will reach up from below and steal my sphincter."

"Um, well, they do have the toilets secured actually."

"…Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, if they wanted, they can cut access to the whole city's water supply, one moment and poof, no more shitters."

"…Jesus fuck." That's actually terrifying.

"I still don't know who that Jesus fellow is, must be pretty famous from where you are."

"Like you wouldn't believe," After saying those words, I take a peek to the sky to check how much the sun has traveled. If my advanced calculations that would break the normal human mind are to be trusted, it is around 1 to 2 PM.

Damn it, I don't have much time.

I look at Fiiriel, this time trying to be as serious as possible, "Alright, listen here Fungus-"

"For the love of-"

"You gotta get back to The Great Milenko and get everything ready, that includes the food, drinks, the games I told you about, and the… _workers_ ,"

Fiiriel frowns, "I remind you that we still have just four uh, _workers,_ and that, in your honestly unreliable opinion, aren't suit for normal clientele."

I groan, "Yes, yes, I know, I'm the one dying inside every time I remember that fact. I'm going to recruit some more people real quick so we can be good enough for four people tonight, so I won't be able to help you with the setting up,"

He sighs, "Figures. Still, are you sure you'll be able to get people? Because I swear, if you leave me to greet the patrons with the girls that we have and they turn out to be as utterly _tasteless_ as you are, then I assure you, this plan will go eat a, how do you say it? _Dick_."

Bastard, when did he develop snark, "Do not worry, you calm, me nervous, I handle this shit. Besides, I have a meeting with Sir Toilet, so I'll be double busy, so to speak."

"…I still think that we should put the makeup on them."

"And I still think you're completely delusional. Now chop chop, the clock is ticking."

"Alright, alright. Hey, catch," He throws me my mask, which I catch with my incredible finesse, "I swear, if you don't get more people then I'm putting all of my funds into a hit for the Dark Brotherhood against you,"

…Is it bad if I don't know if he's joking?

"Uh, don't, seriously. I've already had enough meetings with those edgelords for a lifetime,"

"…I'll ask about it later." He stands up, grabbing the bag with his mask, "I better get moving now, and I'm serious, you better get those people. Be seeing you." He then walks away, all epic and shit to prepare his lizard and catgirl whores…

"Jeez, talk about pressure, you ass."

Stretching myself, I let out a tired groan.

Alright boys and girls, here's the plan for what time I have remaining for the day:

1.- First, I need to get more people for the brothel, because fuck you, we are not going to open with just catgirls and lizards. I know some freaks get their kicks like this but I'm not going to take any risks until we start luring in the true weirdos,

2.- Second, I will have to answer the Silver-Bloods' little booty-call, and there are two ways this visit of totally sexless nature goes: Either I get out of there making a deal with them unscathed and with my balls safe and sound, _or_ my balls go through a romantic ballad of pain and misery of such unmatched suffering that it will make breaking a femur look like kiddy shit.

And the time I have to do all of this is… around five to six hours. Yup, shouldn't be too much of a problem if I hurry the fuck up.

Shit now in order, I put my mask inside one of my robes' pockets and get out of the alleyway, walking onto Markarth's busy streets, filled with citizens going about their business. It's still quite impressive how the Skyrim (Todd's Buggy Mess) to Reality (God's Buggy Mess) conversion worked, upscaling basically every single part of the world to a ludicrous degree. Hell, most times I don't even recognize this city's streets, them being completely different from their game counterpart.

Ah, whatever, it doesn't matter, what does is that I need to convince some people to start whoring themselves out in the name of a very silly clown.

Let's get this done.

* * *

I give a mean glare to the door in front of me.

"Alright Francis, this is easy, all you have to do is open the door, talk it out with the boss-man, and then walk out, no biggie, no problems. Easy peasy, like taking the groceries from an old blind lady,"

My words do little to move me from my position, still standing there like a mediocre art project gone wrong in front of the Treasury House's front entrance.

"I mean, come on, what's the worst they can do, send me to jail?" Wait, they own it, "Fuck."

Letting out a sigh, I check the sky to see how much time I have left. If the sun's position is to be trusted, I have around one to two hours until the sun sets.

God damn did it took long getting those people to work for me, most of the day has already been spent doing just that. I hope the Silver-Bloods aren't mad at me for arriving a bit late to our romantic evening.

Hm? Who I hired, you ask? Why, the answer should be obvious, don't you think? Only the highest quality workers for our high quality establishment!

Homeless people.

...Hey! Don't look at me like that! Where the fuck else was I supposed to look!? Homeless people are by far the best I can afford right now! Hell, I spent most of the time just trying to choose the less shitty ones.

It's like going to a candy store, but all the candy has polio and AIDS.

Anywho, back to the current problem: Big Bad Door in front with the possible promise of either not dying or getting uber-raped in a completely figurative and non-literal way.

For what feels like the thousandth time in the day, I sigh like the generic edgy anime boy that I am.

I open the door and enter hell.

Inside there's a hallway leading down to the reception desk, where the rest of the Treasury House itself is; a reception desk with a pretty young woman running it in front of the stairs. I take notice of the rather… large cleavage she's wearing. Damn it, they're doing marketing better than I am.

Paying no mind to this, I walk down the hallway, all made out of old dwemer stone like most places in this city. Cleavage Girl takes notice of my pitiful self,

"Hello, welcome to the… H-Huh?" She seems to have been thunderstruck by my absolutely tasteful as fuck wardrobe, specifically, the Great Milenko mask that still doesn't fail to make me cringe, and my robe filled with pointless straps, and how could we forget the stupid turban with stars?

I contain all the anti-bodies emanating from the mask and continue walking, my hands behind me to paint the picture of a "CRAZY CLOWN GUY BUT VERY CONFIDETN LIKE THE JOKEEER HAHA XD"

God, I hate this…

I continue walking until I'm in front of the main desk, Cleavage Girl looks pretty weirded out by my shitty cosplay,

"…Um, sir? Do you need something?"

Glancing to the sides, I see an old lady cleaning the place with a broom, acting like there isn't any problem with the sudden entrance of the bozo clown.

I, however, manage to notice with my world-renowned intelligence capable of destroying a satellite with a mere thought, that she's sneakily staring at me, body tense and ready to absolutely wreck my ass old-lady style.

Tsk, damn you, granny ninjas.

"…Uh, sir? If you don't have anything to do here, I'll have to kindly ask you to leave," Oh right, Cleavage Girl.

I finally address her, putting on my cringy as fuck voice I used this afternoon,

"Ah! But I do have something to do here!" Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me.

"O-Oh, and that's…" She eyes me warily, clearly getting intimidated by my apex predator chad mega alpha aura.

"Paying a visit to Thonar Silver-Blood, of course!" The moment I say this I see that the old-lady ninja shifts her position a little, probably preparing to take out the blicky and gun me down. Figuratively, of course.

Cleavage looks clearly uncomfortable with letting the creepy smelly asshole who reeks of hobo breath visit her boss, "I-I'm sorry, but he's rather busy at the mom-"

"Well, he was the one who called me here! I do not know why he would want to do business with little old me, but hey, here I am!" I cross my arms and, ugh, _tilt my head_ to add to the… "craziness" of the outfit.

The moment I get time powers I'm killing my past self to avoid this garbage.

"O-Oh… that's, um…" For fuck's sake Cleavage Girl, I know that getting utterly sexualized by your boss is pretty harsh, but just let me in! I'm as uncomfortable as you are, if not more!

"Aw, let him in, dear. I'll make sure he doesn't cause a ruckus, hm?" Oh shit, that's ninja granny.

I turn towards her, reminding myself that I have around three paralysis knives under my boot ready to be thrown against any violent geezer in the vicinity.

I flourishly bow like a complete tool,

"Thank you, thank you! I promise I'll make this quick! You could even say I'm a bit of a quickshot, haha!" No Francis! Why the fuck did you say that!?

_Mr. Francis, why are you like this?_

I don't know Timmy, I truly don't know.

Ninja Granny just chuckles as if I was a rowdy kid and fuck all else, which I might as well be considering that she can at any given moment go Zuko on my ass and toast me with fire. I do my best to ignore the chances of Kentucky Fried Francis and move towards the door she's gesturing at, which is past her and up some stairs.

Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, I pass by the ninja—still brooming the place innocently, the deviant—and start heading upstairs to the big man's office, and I'm stating this now for the record: If inside the office there's a black leather couch and a camera I'm getting the hell out of there ASAP, consequences be fucked. I want to protect my chastity from leering old men, damn it!

Now in front of the door, I knock thrice like the polite young man my parents think they raised.

…

…Jesus, how do I smell?

…

… _Don't scratch your bum, granny's watching. Don't scratch your bum, granny's watching. Don't scratch your bum, granny's wat-_

"Enter," Oh, thank God.

I open the door and am welcomed with a table full of food, meats, fruits, vegetables, all you can think of. The smell of the food is delicious, which just serves to prove that cash is the best thing in the universe if it lets you buy things like these. There's a door to what seems to be bedchambers and another to what I assume is the shitter, from which the Silver-Bloods steal sphincters and such.

Oh, and there's some prick sitting on the table eating like a twat, I guess, stuffing his face with some sort of meat with potatoes.

Instead of last time, I don't throw a knife to his eye at the first sign of contact, opting instead to again, flourishly bow to him like the cringelord I'm impersonating,

"Greetings! I was told by a guard that you wanted to see me, is that correct?"

Thonar turns his head towards me and frowns in bewilderment once he takes in the sight of the first ever DeviantArt OC of Tamriel.

"What are you wearing?" Inappropriate much? "That's got to be one of the most ridiculous outfits I've seen in my entire life," Bastard, only I'm allowed to insult my outfit.

I force a chuckle out of my system, "Ah, do not worry about it! It's for religious reasons, you see!" Before he can get another scathing remark in, I close the door and stand in front of him, who still has his fork with a piece of meat.

"Let's cut to the chase then, for what reason does the esteemed Thonar Silver-Blood want to see me? Last time I checked, I paid all my taxes, ha!" I swear I don't want to say these things, it comes with the character, please forgive me.

Thonar eyes me with clear contempt, the cunt, "Well, yes, normally I wouldn't even _think_ of letting such a waste of a man inside my office, yet here we are." He takes a bite out of his food. After chewing, he swallows, obviously, "There is a reason why I called you, and it has to do with some curious things that have been happening lately."

Fuck.

Thanking the mask for covering my panic, I tilt my head like an idiot, "Huh? And what would that be? Me and my partner arrived in Markarth no more than four days ago, why would I be involved in any of your business?"

"See, this is the thing, turns out that just _yesterday_ , a brothel burnt down to the ground out of nowhere, killing about twelve people and the owner." SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT-

I do my best to carry on like nothing,

"Oh! That's a bloody damn shame! Although now I understand why you would be suspicious of us, seeing as the day after we happen to open our business! Still I don't know what you want me to say, I do not know who people even are here!"

Thonar looks severely unconvinced, " _Aha_ , sure. And even besides that point, just who do you think you are to start a _fucking brothel_ , in _my city_?"

Oh my, that's a rather large ego, "Do I need to ask you for permission perhaps? My place is just a religious spot! So far not an ounce of any copper, silver or gold has been traded to me for any service!"

He frowns, "You are an idiot, aren't you? Of _fucking course_ you need to ask me for permission!" His eyes turn a tad angry, "You think you can just _stroll in_ like no one's business into _my_ city, spout some utter _garbage_ about some irrelevant nobody, give away some worthless cards, make people _fight for them_ , and not expect me to know!?" He punches the table with his fist. _Gulp._

"All I did was give away some little gifts! What, is it illegal to organize some friendly games with our neighbors now?"

"The _fucking problem_ , is that you're promoting _and_ starting a _fucking brothel_ in my city _without coming to me_! People already know, _already talk_ , about a new whorehouse in the city, and once that happens, then it's done!" He stands up from his seat, clearly enraged at his food and not me, "There are other people besides the Silver-Blood involved, many more! And what do you think happens when they hear of your- your _little shit circus!?_ What happens when they realize I let this utter _filth_ into _my_ city!?"

…Uh, Coco Pops?

He slams his hand against the table, making everything jump a little. Jesus fuck! "They'll think I'm- _weak_ , that I'm _lenient_ , that- that I've gone _soft_. Do you even know- Do you even realize, just _how-"_ **SLAM!** " _fucking-"_ **SLAM!** " _much-"_ **SLAM!** "-you've changed my plans!? How much of a complete _bother_ your mere existence is!?"

…How am I not dead yet?

Rather smartly, I stand still not making any movements, I seriously don't know how trigger happy this asshole is and I don't want to test it. Thonar takes some pissed off breaths before seeming to calm down, his breathing getting more even as he sits back down.

For my part, I try to contain my sphincter from going haywire.

Thonar speaks with a tone of barely contained anger, "Well? I'm _waiting_ for your explanations, mainly, why the actual _hell_ did you not talk to me first. And do it quick." Oh shit, what the hell do I-!?

An answer fabricates itself in an instant. _Oh Francis, you beautiful bastard._

"Well, I didn't think it would've been necessary." Brilliant.

Thonar looks ready to combust and become a beautiful Chinese firework,

" _Even after all I told-!"_ I hold my hands up, doing the international sign of _bro chill pls you're scaring me._

"Whoa! I know what you just told me! It's just that the brothel that we're running right now isn't precisely new, we're just re-branding it, so to speak, so I didn't think it would matter!"

Thonar's pissed off glare doesn't relent, "What the _hell_ does that even mean!?"

Right, these flat-earthers don't know my 21st Century (schizoid man) slang, dumbass, "It means that I just changed the name of the place! That is all!"

His glare thankfully starts to fade, being replaced by confusion, "So, you're telling me that your… _joke_ was already in Markarth?" Good, he's on my train of thought.

I nod, "Yes, our establishment already existed before we started to promote it! It used to be called… Well, I don't remember what it was exactly called! But people called it _The Shack_ , so-" Thonar's eyes widen considerably,

"Wait, _The Shack?_ Are you jesting?"

Who even says jesting? "Uh, no, the brothel did use to be referred to as _The Sha-_ "

Thonar promptly starts laughing like if he just saw an episode of The Big Bang Theory.

…Rude.

Thonar looks like he's about to shit his pants off of laughter, "Oh! I can't believe it! That miserable little place is your Great Milfredo? _The fucking Shack!?_ Oh, why did I even worry!"

O-Oi, "Is there a… problem with this? The establishment just went through some changes and everything, but we should still be-"

He keeps laughing, looking as if he's one step close to becoming the concept of comedy itself,

" _Problems?_ Ha! Don't make me laugh harder!" I silently thank my awful mask again for hiding my glare, "The Shack stopped being relevant ages ago! Oh, maybe it was a cause of worry at its peak, but those days are long, _long_ gone!"

Not knowing how to take this sudden development, I opt for careful neutrality, "Right… so, what's the deal with The Shack? I've heard nothing but shit about them so I'm rather curious."

Thonar looks at me in disbelief, " _You don't know_? Ha! That's brilliant!" After some more chuckles and such, he finally seems to calm down enough to talk, "Oh, I haven't laughed this hard in months!"

I struggle to keep the Great Milenko persona, "Y-Yeah, that's great! Now, if you could tell me…"

"Tell you? Why would I? It's more amusing this way after all." Thonar takes a deep breath and lets out a satisfied sigh, clearly basking in the afterglow of laughing at a bad cosplayer.

He then seems to remember I'm still there, "Now, if you could please get away from my office then?" He shoos me away with his hand. Uh, seriously?

"Wait, so you're not going to do anything?"

Thonar waves his hand dismissively, "Do what, make you all somehow more miserable? You're a joke, and at the end of the day you weren't some new players, just old ones that should've died years ago. Scram." This is too damn convenient.

I know I'm pushing it, but I just need to make sure, "And about that whole burning brothel thing…?"

He rolls his eyes, "No way in hell _you_ people did such a hit, it was too clean and too fast, at best you just had horrible luck when timing that re-opening or whatever you call it. I do have my suspicions on who did it however, but he must be holed up in one of those other brothels for now…"

Damn you, curiosity, "And who would be that one fellow?"

He clicks his tongue, "Bah, just a pathetic swindler we spotted a few days ago roaming the streets," Thonar shrugs, "He calls himself Francis the Fraud or something."

...Ayy lmao.

Once again, I thank this horrible mask for covering my now ugly smirking face,

"Oh, never heard of him. Must be one slippery scoundrel, that one," Very, very slippery if you catch my drift.

Thonar looks at me weirdly, "Aha, what are you still doing here? Scram!"

I turn around with my hands up, "Okay, okay! No need to be rude now!"

With those words said, I open the door and exit his office, where Ms. Granny Ninja is still brooming the same spot, having moved the impressive amount of zero millimeters. Subtle, very subtle.

Closing the door, I start heading downstairs towards the exit. As I walk, Granny Ninja talks to me with her old-lady voice meant to lower all your defenses and maybe your pants,

"Thanks for visiting," Translation: You were this close to getting an impromptu prostate exam performed by me and this broom.

I wave at her, "Thanks for having me, old lady!" Translation: Your fly is open, dumbass.

Before I can hear any complaints from the ass eaters, I jog towards the exit as to not receive any more interruptions, because I just really, _really,_ don't want to die today, thank you very much.

I somehow manage to exit the Treasury House with all of my fingers intact.

With the force of an As-Seen-On-TV Vacuum Cleaner, I take a whiff of air to bring life back to my lungs and possibly my heart, which has been inactive due to having a heart-attack the moment Thonar said my name.

"…So these fuckers know about Franz De La Franz, Messier of Garbage, huh?"

Duly noted, which in other words, means that I won't be able to walk the streets without stupid disguises for the rest of my stay in Markarth for fear of the Silver-Bloods doing the medieval equivalent of a colombian kidnapping, which may or may not include cleaning devices seen on TV.

I look up to the sky to see how late it is. The sun is about to set, which means that The Great Milenko is about to have its Grand Opening in… Well, very little time.

Time to hit the legs.

"Welp, there ain't no rest for the wicked."

Quickly realizing that what I just said didn't sound nearly as cool as it did in my head, I make my way towards The Great Milenko, hoping to god that the smelly hobos are a bit more presentable.

* * *

They… actually were presentable, more than presentable even, holy shit.

"Are these seriously the beggars I found taking shits on the streets and chewing on my toes earlier? Or did you suddenly begin a kidnapping spree and assaulted the nearest temple?"

Fiiriel smiles proudly at his handiwork, "What did I tell you? My make-up is _magic!_ "

In front of us there's a group of eight uh, _workers_ , all of them (except the catgirls and lizards) wearing some sort of white makeover on their faces and black, silky clothes, which - to my complete surprise – makes them actually look presentable! It's like that sort of Chinese geisha stuff, which to be honest, I've never been that big of a fan, but seeing the results and knowing how these fuckers looked before is… Well, pretty eye opening, that's for sure.

Right now we're both currently unmasked in front of the employees, which would normally be considered a move as smart as hitting yourself in the nutsack with barbed wire, but what I need now is trust from these fuckers—people aren't exactly trusting when you pick them off the street with vague promises of paid sex—so if I have to sacrifice our personal privacy to get a shred of trust, then so be it.

Most of them have either bored or anxious faces, probably expecting what's going to happen later tonight, but even that is heightened to new levels thanks to the makeover they just got. Jesus Christ, even the men look pretty fucking great considering how deep in the septic tank of life I found them.

I look at Fiiriel with an inquisitive eyebrow, "I really didn't expect such results from the dude who brought me those weird-ass looking mimes the first time I came here."

He shrugs, a proud smile stuck on his face like a leech, "The problem wasn't the technique or the make-up itself, it was the subjects. Of course it won't work as well if the facial structure is nowhere close to the intended target," He nods his head up and down, examining the products of his work, "It was quite obvious, in hindsight."

I frown, "Why did you even have those cats and lizards anyway? I mean, considering that you could've probably hired someone else…"

"It was- They were… Well, they were the only night-artists left after my father passed away," Oh, that's… a tad weird, to be truthful. I mean, what kind of father leaves his son whores as inheritance?

I ignore my common sense screaming in despair at the bullshit on display and opt instead to look around the place—The Great Milenko, now fully decorated.

It still looks like a normal, rather small inn, with rooms on either side of a hallway with many tables and a main front desk where someone takes the orders.

The main difference however, is in the ambience, with strategically placed candles giving the right amount of light to illuminate the room yet leave a lot of room for the dark, making the atmosphere more… _shady_ , for a lack of a better word.

Wait, no, I got a better one: _Cult-Like_.

Sadly, there's no music, which is a big downside considering how it's a staple in many parts. We would've hired a bard, but Fiiriel's savings are starting to run real-low, so we'll have to wait until we've made some profit before stepping up our game.

Seeing as we're also low on employees who are not prostitutes, I'll have to do the entertainer/cooking duties and Fiiriel will man the front desk. I was a bit worried that I wouldn't be able to provide some proper distractions to the clients, but a little lightbulb in my head told me to get to fucking work.

Mainly on crafting some proper cards for games that will aid in my profit. Like, for example, _Poker_.

A cleared throat takes my attention. It's one of the workers, a middle-aged woman whom I found hiding in a secluded spot in the city. She looks vastly different from when I stumbled upon her, with her clothes not being a sack of potatoes and looking as if she got a proper bath for once. Her white face is a complete 180 from before, now looking pretty—beautiful even—instead of pitiful.

"Yes? Do you have any questions?"

She struggles to hold eye-contact, "Y-Yes, I- Um, I was wondering if we were going to, um… get paid?" What kind of question is that?

I frown, "Of course you're going to get paid, why wouldn't you? This is a job like any other after all, lots of greasy balls notwithstanding."

She shakily laughs, "Well, it's that- that um, I heard someone say that you both were giving away f-free nights here…" Oh, that.

I wave her concerns off, "Yeah, that's right. Doesn't mean we're not going to pay you though, what kind of shitty bosses would we be otherwise?" That damn sack of gold I pillaged from that brothel I burnt down will pretty much carry our asses these next two days, god bless stealing.

She breathes out a sigh of relief, "O-Ok, I… thank you, truly." Jesus, shit must be rough for a sex-worker to thank the pimp who's selling her.

I don't voice this however, because despite popular belief, I am not an idiot, "It's nothing. Any more questions? The patrons will arrive shortly and there won't be any time for them once they're here."

I see a raised hand. It's one of the dudes I picked off the street with the promises of titties, his face having transformed from _gross fucker_ to _generic k-pop pretty boy_ "Are you sure women will come here? I know what you said, but still…" Well, it is a bit rare to offer both men and women at the same time, I kind of hoped it would work as a selling point for us.

I shrug, "Maybe, maybe not, what I do know is that two women most certainly have that card. One of them looked rather young and the other was well in her twenties, and hey, maybe the idiot who got ahold of that card I threw away is a woman! It's all about believing."

He nods, a lecherous grin forming as he probably pictures the possibility of getting laid and getting paid for it. Well, if a man for any reason wants _him_ to go to bed with, he'll have no choice but to accept, we already discussed this so it should be okay-ish… I think.

**KNOCK.**

**KNOCK.**

**KNOCK.**

Hammer time.

Putting on my Great Milenko mask as I whistle "U Can't Touch This", I head to the front door, every worker behind me expectant of who is going to be our first guest.

Opening the door, I'm greeted with the sight of a rather thin young man, his face screaming anxiousness and wariness, his eyes looking nervously at his sides.

He brightens up once he sees my cringelord mask,

"A-Ah! El Flaco! Y-You really are here!"

I chuckle with what I hope is an evil tone, "Of course I am! Did you think I would lie? Me? El Flaco? Never!"

Feeling more confident, the dude tries to step inside but is blocked by my big boy frame. His confidence quickly dies again as he snaps his head up to mine with scared little eyes,

"¿U-Um, ca-can I enter?" I shake my head while snickering,

"Ah, ah, ah! You need to present me your card first! No card, no entering! Those are the rules!"

His eyes widen in realization, "R-Right! Of course!" He starts to search over himself until producing a small black card, "H-Here! I kept it all safe!"

I take it from him and do an act of inspecting it closely, making sure he sees me trying to find any faults in it.

In reality? I'm just looking at the words I made sure to write in every single card we produced as a sort of mark of authenticity. Some truly wise words in _chilean_ in fact. It reads:

**PICO PAL' QUE LEE**

Ya lo leíste, prepárate pal' tulazo.

After some moments in which I'm sure the dude already pissed his pants all the way to oblivion and back, I loudly laugh and save the card in my own pocket, "Yes, yes! It's completely genuine! That means you truly are one of The Great Milenko's esteemed guests!" I get out of the door's way, "Enter, and enjoy yourself!"

Complete elation fills his face. Oh, poor, poor idiot. You should've listened to that woman in the market district.

You really shouldn't trust gifts given by strangers, lest if they come from shady brothels.

As he enters and sees the workers all prettied up and ready to serve, probably getting such a stiffy it could kill any civilization on the moon by impalement, I look outside the local towards the night-sky, wondering how long this night will go on for me. Hm, maybe I should start shuffling that poker deck, I don't want to lose time teaching those idiots how to play-

"H-Hey! You- You're El Flaco, aren't you!?" Hm? I look towards the voice and see a large woman heading to my direction. Ah, she must've won the free-for-all for the card then.

Fool.

With my stupid mask and turban on, I utter some complete lies to the person who's about to enter the brothel, completely ignorant of what awaits this next week,

"Welcome to The Great Milenko! Prepare to make a decision you'll never regret in your life!"

Hey, I never said I was good being subtle.

* * *

 **[1]** : Reference to members of Chilean comedy duo _Dinamita Show._ El Flaco means _The Skinny_ and El Indio means _The Indian.._

The words written in spanish at the end are a vulgar chilean insult which states: " _Dick_ ( **PICO)** _for whoever reads this_ ( **PAL' QUE LEE)** ", a phrase which can be found practically anywhere with the intent of surprising the unaware reader with the promise of an unwilling dicking. Incredibly childish and very common.


End file.
